by JM Stewart
“Maybe you should wash my back instead, darlin’.”
When his meaning sank in, she had to force herself to keep her eyes on his face. The husky edge in his voice told her none too subtly what she’d find beneath the surface of the water. Longing rose within her like a tide. She yearned to forget everything and climb in with him. Drawing on her last ounce of sanity, she moved to kneel behind him.
“Sit up.” When he did, she slid the soapy cloth across the wide expanse of his shoulders and down his back, watching the play of muscles as they shifted with her slight movements. Longing curled in her stomach again, to climb in behind him and wrap her body against his back and let her hands wander over his warm, soapy skin, to wander beneath the surface of the water . . .
Unnerved by how easily he got to her, by the luscious pull of him, she quickly wrung out the cloth and dropped it on the side of the tub. She needed to move to the next task, before she did all of that and then some.
“I’ll help you wash your hair.” She rose from the floor and crossed to the sink, grabbed an unused cup from the counter, and returned to kneel behind him again. “Tip your head back.”
He did as she bade, watching her every move, his deep-blue eyes heavy-lidded. He watched her with a calmness she didn’t feel while she wet his hair, then lathered and rinsed. Like he wasn’t the least bit bothered by her presence. Or maybe he knew the effect he had on her.
“I can get the rest.” The husky timbre of his voice sent a shiver down her spine.
She set the cup on the floor beside her, but couldn’t force herself to leave the room. His eyes had well and thoroughly caught her. Those deep-blue pools called to her, pulled her in, and all the reasons why she shouldn’t let herself get lost in him deserted her.
He reached a hand up, sliding wet fingers into the hair at the base of her skull, and pulled her head down. His lips brushed hers, softly, tentatively, asking the silent question. Giving her room to object. To pull away.
Except she couldn’t. His lips were soft and smooth, and in the space of a quiet, shaky breath, she lost what little willpower she had, and her lips melted over his. He turned his head, deepening the contact, his kiss gentle, unhurried, undemanding, as if he had nothing better in the world to do right then than to kiss her breathless.
She gripped the side of the bathtub to keep herself upright. Her whole body ached to melt into him, until even her toes curled with need. He’d put more into this one single kiss than any other she remembered. More intimacy, more need. So much promise moved between them, lighting a bonfire deep in her belly.
When he finally released her, every inch of her had caught fire. Desire blazed through her blood, and as their gazes collided, his filled with a quiet yearning, filled with—dare she think the word?—love. He’d never looked at her that way before. As if, for the first time in a long time, they saw each other through new eyes. She had no strength to resist him. She’d give him the moon if he asked, and the whole notion left her feeling vulnerable and defenseless.
“If you continue to touch me,” he said, his eyes flashing, searing into her, “you’re going to end up in this tub with me.”
She could only nod. She didn’t trust herself to speak, didn’t trust her voice to work. She rose from the floor and quietly fled the room.
When she closed the bathroom door behind her, she sagged back against the wood and squeezed her eyes shut. Her breathing came harsh and ragged. Except for his injuries, she couldn’t think of one good reason why she shouldn’t go back in there and climb into the tub with him. Which made her wonder why she didn’t. Why was she out here and not in there with him? What did she have to lose at this point?
On the back deck half an hour later, she was staring out over the yard when the back door opened then snapped closed behind her. Jackson made his way across the deck, and her ears followed the sounds of his footsteps. With every step, her breathing quickened. The memory of him in the tub refused to leave her. She couldn’t forget his warm, wet skin beneath her fingers, or the yearning in his eyes. She hadn’t stopped trembling, and despite the coolness of the day, perspiration had broken out along her skin.
He stopped behind her, and she held her breath, her hands trembling. She ached for him to touch her. When she left him, she was positive their marriage couldn’t be repaired. Now things had shifted between them, and she didn’t know which end was up anymore. It was like she was going in a million directions at once, exhilarating but terrifying. Like standing on the high dive trying to summon the courage to take that step off the edge of the diving board.
A heartbeat later, his body pressed lightly against her back, and every inch of her shuddered with relief. He slid his good arm around her waist, his touch gentle, undemanding, and dropped a soft kiss on her shoulder. “Thank you for the help. It meant a lot to me. Nobody’s ever done something like that.”
A tremor ran through her, straight down to her toes, as much from his kiss as from his words. His voice held an intimacy, his touch a tenderness, neither of which had been there in a long time. They hadn’t shared this kind of intimacy since before she left, and heaven help her, she leaned back against him, gingerly, so as not to hurt him, but enough that he would feel the shift.
“Not even the women you dated before we met?” Surely someone, somewhere, had spoiled him.
“I never let anyone get close enough before I met you.” He rested his cheek against hers, his stubble prickling her skin.
She slid her hand along his arm. “Everybody needs somebody to take care of them.”
He turned his head, his voice a low, husky murmur in her ear. “Will you help me bathe every day until the cast comes off?”
His tone of voice was hard to read. Was his question genuine or merely a tease? Whatever the answer, her tummy quivered anyway. “Would you like me to?”
His lips trailed the side of her neck, from her jaw to her shoulder, leaving goose bumps in their wake. “Very much.”
A shuddering breath left her lungs. God, she wanted him. Craved his touch and the warmth of his bare skin against hers. Wanted nothing more than to take him upstairs and make love to him. Long and slow. The way they used to once upon a time.
Which left her confused and torn. She’d promised herself she’d at least try to make their relationship work, but sex would only muddle an already complicated relationship. Wouldn’t it?
His arm tightened around her. “Go on a date with me.”
“A date?” Surprised by the sudden shift, she turned in his arms so she could see his eyes, and lifted a brow. They hadn’t been on a date in . . . years. With Allie and both their jobs, busy schedules had always gotten in the way.
He leaned his forehead against hers. “Yes, a date. I believe I owe you. I’m a bit overdue.”
He didn’t have to say it. She knew instinctively to what he referred. The hint glimmered in the regret in his eyes. Their anniversary. Her heartbeat sped up, hammering in her ears, a moment of panic sliding over her. Did she dare? Did she want to?
A breath later, the question answered itself. She nodded. “Okay.”
He grinned, a full-out, ear-to-ear-filled smile that illuminated his whole face, and squeezed her tight, only to quickly release her with a quiet, pain-filled groan.
“Damn, my ribs.” He pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “You won’t regret it, darlin’. I promise.”
She smiled, warmth filling her. She had the sudden feeling of being the twentysomething girl she’d once been, agreeing to go out with him for the first time. A million butterflies did an excited little dance inside of her. “When?”
“Well, we have the luau tomorrow, so . . . how ’bout next Friday?” His brows rose, hope filling his eyes.
She nodded again. “Friday.”
Chapter Ten
Becca halted in the foyer of Evan and Malia’s house, her heart in her throat. Having done this a milli
on and one times, Allie didn’t wait, but bounded across the threshold. She wound her way around the furniture and into the kitchen, disappearing moments later out the sliding glass doors into the backyard, where the celebration took place.
Becca’s stomach knotted. Hawaiian music drifted from the direction Allie had disappeared, mingling with the low hum of conversation. The tang of barbecuing meat filled the air. The celebration was in full swing. Any other day, she’d have gleefully followed her daughter. She normally loved the get-togethers with her family. They meant lots of laughter and fun. She could always relax here. Tonight, however, her stomach did somersaults, making her vaguely nauseous.
Jackson’s hand slid onto her shoulder, his voice a gentle hum behind her. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”
“I’m nervous. I haven’t been this nervous since I brought you to meet them the first time.” The memory rose over her and her stomach did another flip-flop. She’d announced her relationship with him the same day she’d told them all she was even seeing him. Up until that point, she’d kept their relationship to herself, too nervous to admit she’d found a man who’d swept her off her feet. Too afraid if she did, their relationship would go POOF.
She was also pregnant at the time.
His fingers squeezed, gently kneading the tense muscle. “They’re your family.”
She darted a glance back at him and let out a sardonic laugh. “That’s exactly the problem. They’re going to hound you. If I know them, it’s going to be a three-ring circus. You should have seen us all when Kyle and Ceci finally got together. Lord, we’re awful.”
Kyle and Ceci had been best friends since elementary school. Growing up, Ceci lived in the house next door. When the two finally got together a little over eight months ago, Becca was only too happy to join the teasing. After waiting years for them to finally see what the rest of them had seen all along, the whole family was ecstatic for the couple. Ceci had given birth four months ago. Technically, the baby wasn’t Kyle’s. Little Katie’s real father had left Ceci high and dry as soon as she’d discovered she was pregnant. True to his nature, Kyle had taken over as the baby’s father. With a mop of light-brown hair and a slightly too-big nose, she somehow still looked like him.
Becca loved her family’s enthusiasm. They supported each other through everything. If ever she needed a cheerleader, she could always count on these guys. Except she didn’t know if she could handle their well-intentioned teasing yet. She didn’t know if she had answers for their questions, either.
She let out a sigh. “When Malia called last week to tell me about the luau, I confided in her. Lord, Jack, I told her everything. If I know her, she’s already passed the gossip down the grapevine. Ceci should have called me by now for details, but she hasn’t. Mom at least will let me be, but I know darn well the other three women are out in the backyard waiting to pounce on me.”
Jackson’s hand left her shoulder, only to slide around her waist. He stepped to his left, pulling her out of view of the sliding glass doors, then tugged her gently back against him. “You’re not alone in this, sweetheart.”
His voice came as a low hum behind her, quiet and soothing, and she peered over her shoulder. With his easy smile and the tenderness glimmering in his eyes, he didn’t appear the least bit perturbed. A fact that didn’t surprise her. Jackson could stay calm even when faced with a herd of stampeding elephants. Now, however, his eternal calm filled her with a quiet confidence that eased the knot in her stomach. “Aren’t you nervous?”
“A little. I’m not entirely sure how they’re going to react, either. Come on.” He jerked his head in the direction of the kitchen doorway and stepped around her. “We better get out there. We linger too long by the front door, tongues are bound to wag.”
The memory rose in her mind, and she couldn’t help her smile. The first time she’d brought him home to meet the family, Kyle had caught them kissing. She’d never forget the look on his face, standing behind them, arms folded, attempting to look stern yet unable to hide his crooked smile. His words that day echoed through her thoughts. “Something you’d like to share, Beck?”
Becca let out a quiet laugh. “Kyle would have told everybody by now that we’re making out again.”
“That could be arranged.” Jackson cocked a playful brow, his voice lowering to a husky murmur.
The heat in his eyes made her forget how to breathe. God, he was sexy when he looked at her like that.
He stepped closer and leaned his head beside her ear. “If I recall, I kissed your nerves right out of you that night.”
A heated shiver raked the length of her spine, but Becca could only stare up at him as the moment settled inside of her. A languid heat slid through her limbs, and his kiss the day before flooded her thoughts. She’d missed this, the simple things. The play between them and the joy of flirting with him. The intimacy. The way his mouth fit against hers. His arms around her and the solidness of his body against her. She’d denied the feelings for so long. Suddenly she was starved for a taste of him.
The problem was, she didn’t know the proper response anymore. She yearned to drown in him, to press into his arms and beg him to kiss her, but she didn’t know if she had the right, or even if she ought to. She’d expected awkwardness, but a fire of a new kind seemed to light between them. They weren’t strangers, but two people coming to know each other again, and it was heady and exhilarating and terrifying all at the same time. When she’d left him, she hadn’t anticipated missing him this much, but it was a desperate ache deep inside her, and she didn’t know what to do with it.
She gave a helpless shake of her head. She had to be honest with him. “Do you know what it does to me when you say stuff like that?”
A bonfire flared in his eyes. He closed the minuscule distance between them, pressing his warm, solid body against her side. His thumb made torturous sweeps across her knuckles, simultaneously soothing and distracting her. “You mean, tell you how much I want to kiss you right now?”
The yearning in his quiet tone had the simmering coals in her stomach blazing. Becca dragged in a ragged breath in a desperate attempt not to lift onto her toes and do just that—kiss him. “Yes.”
Jackson leaned his head beside her ear. “Does it make you want me as much as I want you?”
His lips brushed her earlobe as he spoke, but it was the need in his voice that made her knees wobble. A shaky exhalation left her mouth.
“Yes.” Her fingers tightened around his in a vain attempt to keep herself upright. She’d forgotten this, too. How potent he could be.
He groaned low in her ear, his teeth raking over the sensitive lobe. “I’m going to remember you said that after Allie goes to bed tonight.”
She opened her eyes and met his desire-filled stare, somehow resisting the urge to kiss the smile off his mouth. He looked so damned sexy right then. She couldn’t remember one good reason why she shouldn’t slip into his embrace and fill the hollow ache in her belly. Except she had their daughter to think about. She didn’t want to confuse Allie or get her hopes up until Becca had decided for herself where their relationship was headed. They’d already sent conflicting messages when Becca had spent the previous night in his bed.
Things had relaxed between her and Jackson, the intimacy growing in tiny but noticeable increments. She teetered on the edge of a very important decision, one holding three lives in its grasp. Oh, she knew what she wanted, but a million questions filled her with uncertainties. Namely, could they make it work this time? What if they failed again? Was he really different? Or would he fall back into the same old patterns again? Questions she didn’t have the answers to. Yet.
“Come on.” Jackson squeezed her fingers, then released her hand and nodded in the direction Allie had disappeared. “Before they come searching for us and Allie finds us together.”
Moving through the house to the backyard, the sense of inti
macy flowed with them. When they stepped out onto the back deck, however, all eyes turned to them, and whatever ease she’d found deserted her. As she stopped outside the sliding glass doors, a knot firmly replaced the heat in her stomach. Several faces held pleased grins. Kyle, the class clown of the family, had the audacity to clap. Never one to miss a playful opportunity, Jackson folded a hand over his stomach and took a bow.
But otherwise, nothing she’d anticipated actually happened. No one moved in their direction or tossed a teasing taunt. No secretive smiles came from any of her brothers. Rather, they all turned away, carrying on like she and Jackson weren’t there. Malia caught her gaze and winked, telling Becca she’d warned them. Grateful for the time to collect herself, Becca smiled in return.
More than a little curious about Kyle’s reaction and Jackson’s response, she peered over at him, quirking a brow in silent question.
Jackson chuckled. “Your brothers and I came to an understanding a long time ago. The first night I met them, we were discussing careers. I’d just learned Kyle and Chase were police officers and Evan had been in the air force for going on thirteen years. They made sure to tell me all three not only owned guns but were expert marksmen. I jokingly asked if that was a hint that I ought to watch my back from now on. Kyle and Chase just laughed. Evan told me if I’d managed to get past you with all my parts intact, I was good in their book.”
Once again, Jackson’s easy calm hit its intended target, soothing the worry in the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t resist a quiet laugh. He’d never told her that. “They actually said that?”
Amusement glinted in his eyes, his mouth curling into a grin. “Yes, ma’am, they did. Then Chase handed me another beer and told me when you were seventeen, they agreed to stop hounding your boyfriends—”
