by Dawn Atkins
He shifted his leg so it was between hers, the soft friction of his hair delicious against her thighs, the pressure on her sex just right. She felt him, hard against her stomach.
Jonah cradled her head in his hands and lowered his mouth for a soft kiss. “I thought I’d never have you like this again.”
He deepened the kiss, his tongue more insistent, and she kissed him back the same way. He shifted on top of her body. Bad memories teased at her, but she forced them back. Be here. Feel this. Jonah. This is Jonah. She gripped his butt with both hands, feeling the curve of muscle, noticing how she ached for him, her body rocking toward him, wanting him, ready for him, as he was ready for her.
This is good…so good… She was doing fine until Jonah stopped moving and reached past her. “Condom,” he said, giving her a quick kiss.
It was only a few seconds, but it was long enough for her focus to slip. Now he loomed over her, so heavy, so much stronger than she was. He could overpower her so easily. Panic made it hard to breathe, and she knew it showed on her face. She was glad Jonah was looking elsewhere, parting her legs, easing into her body.
Cara had wanted this so much, longed for it, but her body had gone numb.
She closed her eyes to fight her way back. You want this. This is Jonah. Forget Barrett. Barrett’s gone forever. Think about Jonah, only Jonah.
Jonah stopped moving.
She opened her eyes.
“I lost you,” he said.
“I’m here. I just…” Shame washed over her. “Don’t give up on me.” If she didn’t push through, she might never have the courage to try again.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
NOT LIKE THIS. Not with that haunted look in her eyes. CJ was lost in the past, reliving whatever her ex had put her through in bed. He hated that she’d been hurt in such a personal way.
If he stopped, she’d be embarrassed and disappointed.
He had an idea. Holding her tight, he rolled over and put her on top. CJ’s eyes widened, looking down at him. “What are you doing?”
“Letting you take the wheel,” he said, hoping to hell this worked for her.
She sat up slowly. Damn, she was beautiful above him. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen. The heavy locket rested between her pale breasts. He wanted to press his mouth to those breasts, run his tongue over her nipples and—
It’s her show. Let her run it. Jonah rested his hands lightly on her hips, determined to follow her lead, pick up her rhythm, not grab what he wanted. He wanted it all.
She blinked at him and took a shaky breath. Had she never been on top?
“You okay?”
She nodded, adjusted her knees and lifted herself, then wiggled lower on his shaft. He ached to catch the down stroke hard, but he resisted, letting her test-drive the position.
She repeated the move, a smile stretching, slow and sexy. “I like this. This feels good.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“I’m back,” she said, leaning down for a slow kiss while her hips rocked.
“Good to know,” he said, relief easing his tension.
She sat up and began to ride him in earnest, her breasts bouncing gently, her back arched, bucking against the base of his shaft. He slid a finger into her cleft. She was so wet and swollen he almost came himself.
CJ’s eyes flew open. “Oh, oh. That’s, oh…” She began really moving now, giving out little cries. He stayed with her, riding her rhythm, watching her face. Her eyes were glazed, her mouth slack, her cheeks bright with color. What had she said about pupils pulsating? Hers were doing that for sure.
“It’s… I’m…” she gasped. “Oh…I’m… I’m…oh…” With a sharp cry, she dropped onto his chest, jolting and trembling.
“…coming. You’re coming,” he breathed. “So am I.” His release came from somewhere deep, bringing with it old sorrows, old pain, washing it all away in wave after wave, leaving only soft pleasure shuddering through him.
When they’d both stilled, he wrapped his arms around her, breathing her in—sweet pink, night air and woman. He stroked her hair, feeing her heartbeat slow, her breathing settle. He felt good. He felt…happy. He would remember this for the rest of his life. “CJ,” he breathed near her ear.
She pushed up to look him in the eyes. “It’s Cara. Cara’s my real name.”
“Cara,” he repeated, touched that she’d told him. He noticed her locket resting between her breasts. He picked it up. “Can I see?”
She nodded. He opened it and held it so they could both see the picture. It was a blonde toddler holding a stuffed rabbit.
“This is…Beth Ann?” He knew their real names. That felt good.
“Yep. And that’s Bunny.” She pointed at the stuffed animal.
“The grubby thing she was carrying the day you came into the diner?”
“Yes. She hangs on to him when she’s insecure.”
He closed the locket. “Speaking of that…you leave her my number?”
“I didn’t have to. She knew where it was all along.”
“Good.”
“Thank you for this.”
“Don’t thank me, for God’s sake. I was there, remember? Enjoying every minute.”
“Being on top was a good idea. It brought me back and gave me control. Thank you for staying with me.” Tears shone in her eyes.
“You pushed through, Cara. You did it.” He brushed her hair from her eyes, filled with tenderness for this woman who’d been broken, but was coming back strong. He thought about the two hearts winking golden on his windowsill and this soft and sexy woman in his arms. If that wasn’t luck, what was?
* * *
CARA JOLTED AWAKE. Where was she? The low ceiling made her remember. Jonah’s bed. She’d drifted to sleep.
“What’s wrong?” Jonah said foggily.
“Nothing.” She squinted at the clock. “It’s late. I should go.”
“Not yet.” He pulled her back against him, his fingers barely caressing her skin. That felt soo good. “Mmm, Cara,” he said, sniffing her neck. “You smell even more pink now.”
Alarm flickered. He’d called her by her real name. “You have to call me CJ in the café and everywhere else. And Beth Ann is—”
“Bunny. Got it. Sure.” He kissed his way to her shoulder.
This was heaven, lying here. She was so happy, so relieved. She’d shoved Barrett out of her head—and her bed—she hoped for good, with the help of the wonderful man curved around her body, his fingers now busy…Oh, what was he doing to her?
Despite how late it was, and how satisfied she’d been, she wanted more. She rubbed herself against him.
He groaned. “If you’re going to go, you’d better stop that.”
“Maybe I can stay a little while longer.”
He chuckled against her throat. “Good decision.” He reached past her, then held out the condom packet. “Last one. Should I buy more?”
“Enough to last the summer,” she said, not hesitating one bit.
Afterward, she headed for the café, the moon bright, the air soft on her skin. Her feet seemed to barely touch the ground.
As she reached the porch, doubts flickered. What if she was wrong? What if her panic returned? What if they got snarled up? What if someone got hurt?
Cara glanced back at the trailer. As if in answer, Jonah stood on his porch, a sheet around his hips, her big protective bear of a man, making sure she got safely home.
He raised a hand. She waved, her doubts completely erased.
* * *
WITH ONE GIANT breath, Beth Ann blew out all ten of her candles, filling the air with waxy smoke. “I did it!” she said. “Now my wish will come true, Rosie.”
Cara guessed Beth Ann had wished for Rosie to get chemo. In the four days since they’d heard the diagnosis, Beth Ann had been engaged in a quietly persistent battle to convince Rosie to do the right thing.
They’d made headway—Cara had seen Rosie reading Jonah’s research, hiding it in her newspaper—but Rosie was stubborn.
“It’s a party, for God’s sake,” Rosie said. “Cut the damn cake.”
Rachel gasped at Rosie’s language. Beth Ann had invited her favorite friend from day camp to spend the night with her.
“Rosie swears a lot,” Beth Ann said. “You’ll get used to it.”
Beside Cara, Jonah squeezed her hand under the table, which gave her butterflies. She struggled to keep her face normal. Already, Rosie had asked her twice if she felt faint. They’d agreed to keep their relationship private, but Cara knew it was hard to hide her glow, or how often their eyes met.
Cara served the cake Beth Ann had “invented”—cherry-chocolate-chip with lemon-blueberry frosting, which turned out to taste delicious—then Beth Ann opened her gifts. Rachel’s present was a beading kit, which Beth Ann loved. Cara’s gift was practical—new school clothes.
“Clothes?” Rosie said disgustedly. “That’s not a birthday gift. Here.” She shoved a newspaper-wrapped box toward Beth Ann, who tore it open, then gasped.
“It’s the Wonder Woman comics. But you said I couldn’t touch them.”
“Not until your birthday, of course,” Rosie said. “Now that’s a proper present.”
“Thank you so much.” Beth Ann left her chair and threw her arms around Rosie, who turned bright red.
“They’re collectible so take care of them,” she said gruffly, but her eyes shone with emotion.
“Let’s go upstairs and read them,” Beth Ann said to Rachel.
“I have something for you,” Jonah said, standing. “It’s outside.”
“Outside?” Cara looked up at him.
“You’ll like it,” he said with a wink. “Let’s go.” He started for the door.
“I’ve already seen it,” Rosie said. “I’m going to eat another piece of that god-awful cake, then go to the TV and watch the Beverly Hills housewives bitch at each other.”
Jonah led the rest of the party across the lot. As they neared the stand of trees, Cara caught glimpses of boards in the low boughs of a huge pine.
“You built my castle!” Beth Ann shrieked, then ran there, Rachel at her heels.
“You built a tree house?” Cara tried to keep the dismay from her voice.
“She said she wished her castle was real.” He shrugged.
“But we’ll be—” Leaving soon. She couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud. “It was so much work for—” so little time.
“There’s still eight weeks, Cara,” he said in a low voice. “That’s a lot of time to enjoy the tree house and everything else.”
He meant the two of them, she knew. They’d only been together four days and already she dreaded the goodbye. She’d get a preview when Jonah went to New York for his show in two weeks.
In the meantime, Cara loved every minute they spent together. Each time they made love, her bad memories faded further. Sex was amazing with a man she trusted. Every night they tried something new. Jonah made her feel so attractive, so desired, it made her shiver just thinking about the way he looked at her.
“Come check it out,” he said to her, guiding her with a hand to her back.
The gesture no longer made her nervous. Not with Jonah. He wouldn’t push her anywhere she didn’t want to go.
When they reached the tree house, Beth Ann leaned down from the opening. “We’re going to sleep out here tonight, okay? With flashlights and sleeping bags?”
“I don’t see why not.” Her daughter’s joy was a delight to see.
“You have to come up here, Mom,” she said.
“Go ahead,” Jonah said. “There’s room.”
Cara climbed the rungs he’d hammered into the trunk and lifted herself into the “castle.” There was plenty of room for her and the girls and a small table on low legs. Jonah climbed the ladder so his head and shoulders were visible. “This is nice,” she said.
“Just the basics,” he replied, but she could see it had the polish and beauty of all Jonah’s work.
Beth Ann exclaimed over the shelves, the windows and tiny curtains, the ledge to sit on, complete with round orange pillows that Rosie had contributed. She’d made the curtains, too, from tie-dyed cotton.
“I love it so much.” Beth Ann lunged to hug Jonah.
“Glad to hear that.” Jonah cleared his throat.
“Can you get Louis up here?” Rachel said.
“Sure, I can,” Beth Ann said. “Jonah says I’m the Cat Whisperer.”
The girls spent the evening running back and forth between the apartment and the castle, gathering toys, snacks, pillows and flashlights.
Finally, at ten, Cara called up to them from the base of the tree house, “Permission to say good-night to the fair damsels?”
She’d tucked Bunny discreetly into a pillowcase to give to Beth Ann, since she’d want it to sleep with, but might not want Rachel to know.
“You may enter, mi’lady,” Beth Ann said.
Rachel giggled.
Cara found them reading comic books by flashlights, eating birthday cake.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” Beth Ann said. “It’s great.”
She slipped the pillowcase to her daughter, who looked inside. “No, thanks,” she said, handing it back.
Beth Ann didn’t need her comfort object. Wow.
Meow.
Cara did a double take. Louis was curled up on Beth Ann’s sleeping bag. He looked at her with his one good eye. I’ve got this, he seemed to say.
“Don’t stay up all night now. If I’m not in the apartment, I’ll be at Jonah’s for a bit.” They would stay dressed until she was certain the girls were asleep.
Cara climbed down, smiling. Beth Ann was bouncing back. She’d made a friend. That was wonderful, but also sad. She’d have to say goodbye to Rachel, too, along with the tree house, the cat, Rosie and Jonah.
She stopped to let the breeze lift her hair. The white lights of Jonah’s deck seemed to welcome her. She loved being with him. She loved the café. Beth Ann was happy here. It would be so hard to leave.
What if they stayed? According to Rosie, the schools were good. Beth Ann already had a friend. Cara could follow through on the café improvements. And she could be with Jonah. The idea quickened her pulse.
All she’d wanted was a safe home. Why couldn’t it be here?
She started toward Jonah’s, then remembered she wanted to show him the new staff uniform shirt she’d ordered—yellow cotton, the logo in purple, to be worn with purple shorts, a skirt or slacks—so she headed back to the apartment, her steps light, feeling happy, thinking that maybe they could stay in New Hope for a while.
The uniform box was empty, and Rosie told her she’d washed the shirt to be sure it wouldn’t shrink, and it was now in the dryer.
In the laundry room, Cara opened the dryer door. The scent made her instantly sick. She glanced up at the shelf and saw a new box o
f dryer sheets—the brand she’d used three years ago. She backed out of the room, leaning on the wall to wait for the nausea to fade.
The day Barrett attacked her, she’d been drying one last load before she and Beth Ann left for Barstow. Barrett was living in a hotel at the time to wait for Cara to trust him again. But that wasn’t going to happen. The black rage that came over him when she even mentioned divorce told her he would hurt her, so she knew she and Beth Ann had to get away.
She had changed the locks, and started packing, placating him on the phone to buy enough time to organize their departure.
That morning, she’d turned to get the laundry basket and found Barrett in the doorway, his face a mask of cold fury.
How had he gotten in? In her haste, she must have forgotten to lock the door after Beth Ann went next door to play with a friend.
Slowly, Barrett closed the door, a sick smile on his face, a predatory look in his eyes.
You promised me time, he said in a slow, hypnotic voice, but I see packed bags. I won’t have that, Cara. I won’t let you destroy our family. I love you too much for that.
When she tried to push past him, he grabbed her arm, knocking over the box of dryer sheets, spilling them everywhere. She twisted away, but slipped on the dryer sheets and hit the floor. He was on her, choking her. She gasped, blacking out, smelling the sweet powder of the fabric softener. She scratched his face and he let go for a second, then yanked her to her feet and threw her against the wall. She tried to reach the door, but he grabbed her again. He looked here and there. For a weapon, she realized. He wanted to kill her.
Finally he gave up and threw her against the washing machine with all his might. Her last thought was of Beth Ann. She had to stay alive for her daughter. Pain flared and everything went black.
Cara had survived to protect her daughter. And that was still her mission. Barrett was after her again. If he found her, he would finish what he’d started. He would kill her. And Beth Ann? What would become of her?
