by JM Stewart
He ought to head to bed. Instead, he waited, because he had to know how she’d react when they were alone.
When Becca finally returned to the kitchen, she halted in the doorway. Her chest rose and fell at an increased pace. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. She looked like she couldn’t decide if she wanted to come in . . . or run.
He offered a gentle smile. “I promise I won’t jump on you.”
She studied the floor for a moment, only to jerk her head up and stare him dead in the eye. “What if I want you to?”
Molten lava flooded his veins. Damn, she had to go and say that. There went all his good intentions.
Compelled to touch her, to be near her, he closed the space between them, somehow managing to stop short of yanking her against him. The heat of her body radiated to him, and her delicate scent wafted around his head like a lure.
“Those are very dangerous words, darlin’.” He slid his hand into her hair, needing simply to feel the silky strands between his fingers. He’d never get enough of the sensation. He yearned to draw her closer, was tempted to seize her mouth but held back, well aware their daughter lay asleep down the hall.
“You’ve been teasing me all night.” Her words floated up on a breathy voice, her eyes already at half-mast, but her chin lifted in stubbornness. “It’s not fair.”
“I can’t help myself. You’re so damn beautiful when you look at me with fire in your eyes. I don’t think anybody’s ever looked at me the way you do, even when you’re angry with me.” He couldn’t resist pressing into her, longing to feel the soft planes of her molded against him. Feel the press of her breasts against his chest, the harsh rise and fall as her breathing quickened. “It’s addicting.”
Her hands slid up his chest. Her gaze dropped to his mouth, and her tongue flicked out, sliding across her lips. “Well, it drives me crazy.”
“Why?” Because he needed to hear her say the words.
Her fingers curled against his chest, fisting his shirt in her hands. “Because I want you.”
Everything inside of him bound up into a tight, hot little ball, his arousal swift and painful. God how he wanted her. Wanted nothing more right then than to sink into her silky heat and make love to her until the sun came up and beyond. Lose himself in the softness of her touch, the way that touch soothed his soul. He’d missed the privilege of being able to do so, more than he had words to tell her.
But he had to take this slow. He’d watched her push him away for months now, and she’d finally taken a step toward him. He had no desire to press his luck, to risk pushing her away again.
He cupped her cheek in his palm, enjoying the smooth, velvetiness of her skin. Unable to resist, he leaned down and nipped at her bottom lip. “Good.”
She exhaled a shaky breath, warm against his mouth, and tipped her head back. When she lifted onto her toes, seeking him, he thought for sure he’d lose his mind. The call of her mouth won, and he allowed himself a single kiss. Long enough to enjoy the feel of her, the way her hands slid up his chest to wrap around his neck. Her reaction filled his chest with longing, with triumph, with the sheer simple joy of experiencing her response. For so many months she’d pushed him away. To watch her pull him in made his heart sing.
The overwhelming need to give in, to coax her lips open and taste her, gripped him hard. Their kiss the day before had done him in. He’d forgotten the immense pleasure kissing her provided. He wanted to revel in it, to spend long minutes, hours, memorizing the shape of her small, perfect mouth once again.
So he forced himself to release her. Reaching up, he unwound her hands from around his neck and kissed each one before stepping away.
“Friday.” Finding strength from God knew where, he moved around her and backed out of the kitchen.
She watched him go with her mouth hanging open. When he stepped out into the hallway, her brow twisted in confusion. “That’s it?”
“That’s it.” Unable to hide his grin, he turned and headed down the hallway toward his bedroom.
“So not fair, Jack.”
The sound of her voice called to him like a homing beacon, and a sense of satisfaction slid through his chest. His body begged him to turn around and go back to her. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had the pleasure of spending an entire night worshiping every inch of her soft, sweet body. They’d made love on the fly for years, usually at the end of a long day. He hadn’t ever made time.
No, he wanted to prove that making love to her meant something to him beyond lust. He had every intention of sweeping Becca clean off her feet. Which meant, for the foreseeable future, he was going to bed alone . . . and painfully aroused.
Chapter Eleven
“Another one?”
Seated behind her desk, Becca eyed the man in her office doorway, her brows rising. His familiar green hat told him he was from Ceci’s flower shop. He held a bouquet of long-stemmed white roses. It was the sixth bouquet she’d received, all of them in clear vases.
His mouth split into a grin. “’Fraid so. Where would you like me to set this one?”
Stunned, she scanned the room. Bouquets covered darn near every available surface. While they flooded the room with their delicious sweet smell, a scent she normally adored, there were so many they’d begun to take over her small office. Two dozen had waited for her on the sidewalk outside the dojo when she arrived at eight. According to the delivery guy, when he arrived with the third at nine, he’d started delivering them at seven. From then on, one dozen had arrived every hour, all with the same note attached: “When you figure out the hint, call me.”
She sighed. The cards didn’t need to be signed for her to know who they were from. Aside from the fact that she recognized his chicken scratch handwriting, the gesture screamed Jackson.
She waved her hand in the air, signaling the room at large. “Set them anywhere you can find room.” When he set the vase on the last available spot on the edge of her desk, she frowned. There were now three bouquets on her desk alone. She looked up at him, helpless. “How many more are there?”
“He said how many depends on you, ma’am.” When she arched a brow in silent question, he flashed an amused but secretive grin. “On how soon you figure out what the hint means.”
Becca folded her arms, eyeing the crowded room. Sending flowers was downright sweet. Jackson knew she loved white roses. They were her favorite flower. She’d told him the first time he arrived on her doorstep with a pink carnation. To fill her entire office, though? Any more and she’d trip over them. What on earth was he up to now? “How much did he pay you? I’ll double the money if you stop.”
He shook his head, amusement glittering in his eyes. “’Fraid I can’t, ma’am. He told me you might make the offer. I’m to politely decline.” He tipped his hat and left the room. Obviously Jackson had offered a generous tip.
Becca sank back against the leather chair, picked up the phone from the desk, and dialed Jackson’s cell. The gesture was sweet, but it was distracting.
He picked up on the second ring. “Mornin’, darlin’.”
She scanned the room, looking at the sea of white roses around her, and sighed. “Jack, what is all this?”
This was another area where they were like night and day. He wasn’t comfortable being “fussed over,” as he called it, and she wasn’t fond of his need to make big gestures. Growing up, her family hadn’t had much. Her mother had taught them to make do with what they were given. Jackson, though, had been given the best of everything. When he wanted something, he bought it, and he was prone to wanting the same for her and Allie. It was sweet, but grand gestures made her uncomfortable. She was a simple person with simple needs. She bought new clothes when she needed them, not just because she could. Extravagance had never been her thing. Though if she knew Jackson, he had a reason for sending the flowers. The question was, why?
“Do you like them?”
The tender edge in his voice had her frustration melting, along with her knees. She couldn’t deny him that. “They’re beautiful. Thank you. But why so many?”
Silence echoed across the line. Finally, he heaved a heavy sigh. “You haven’t figured out what the flowers mean yet.” His voice lowered, dejection creeping into his tone that hit her straight in the heart. “Becca, you wound me. I thought for certain you’d understand this one.”
Her chest clenched as shame rose over her. Her cheeks heated. So she was right. He did have a reason for sending them. She’d been wracking her brain for hours now, though, and she’d be darned if she could figure out his reason. “Jack, I’m sorry, I—”
“When you figure out what I’m trying to show you, darlin’, call me.” The line went dead, leaving her listening to the monotonous drone of the dial tone.
She growled in frustration and returned the receiver to its cradle. Friday had arrived. The exact day the man had taunted her with every day this week. She’d been a bundle of nerves. So far, every night they’d stayed up together, long after Allie went to bed, watching the news. Becca surprised herself. She didn’t know what to expect. They were in uncharted territory. It was like being back to the beginning all over again, that first uncertain date with a million possibilities set before her. Deep down, she had to admit she kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. She wanted to believe he’d changed, but her heart kept expecting the results to be the same. She kept coming back to the same question: what if this didn’t work?
Except things weren’t the same. Jackson was making an effort. He came home early every night. Every evening, they spent time together, something they hadn’t done in years, and every night she went to bed a little lighter than the night before. She’d forgotten this stuff. How delightful something as simple as watching the news with him could be. She’d forgotten how much she missed all the little things, too. Like his constant presence in the house and the comfort and ease between them.
Jackson touched her more than he had in months. She wasn’t used to it. She’d spent so much time and energy shutting him out after their divorce, walling off her heart just to make it through the day, that having to let him in left her floundering like a fish out of water. An aroused fish at that. The man still had the power to turn her insides to goo. Every night when the broadcast ended, he walked her to her room, took her hand, kissed her so tenderly her heart would clench, and whispered, “Good night.” Then left her standing there, aching for his touch.
He’d set her on edge. Everything had changed between them, and she had no idea which end was up anymore. The tension of the first few months after their divorce had all but evaporated. The sparkle in his eyes these days took her breath away, like he had a secret, but with such fierce desire, even her bones seemed to melt. Those looks gave her back what she’d been searching for since they married. They made her feel important. They told her he really did see her, that she wasn’t invisible to him. He made her feel like that blushing bride all over again.
They also wound her up like a top. At any moment, she feared the string would snap and she’d spin off in a million different directions all at once. The delicious tension between them frustrated her to no end, but she savored every moment, simply because at one point in their relationship, they’d been so rare. Her heart soaked up every moment, his every smile, his every touch. Now, the thought of their date had her body humming with anticipation and her heart riding on the end result. She was more aroused than she’d been in years and absolutely terrified.
If only she could figure out the significance of these darn flowers. Maybe it would settle the unease still caught in her chest.
The name on the delivery guy’s hat flashed through her mind. Being late morning, Ceci was no doubt at the shop. She no doubt knew who the flowers were from, and likely why.
Becca picked up the phone again, this time dialing the number to the flower shop.
Ceci picked up on the third ring. “Full Bloom.”
Becca settled back in her chair, mentally crossing her fingers that Ceci would help her. “You have to tell me what this is.”
Ceci let out a soft laugh. “I’m afraid I can’t, sweetie. I promised him I wouldn’t.”
Becca released a heavy breath and dropped her head onto the back of the chair, staring at the white tiles above her. “I’ve wracked my brain all morning, and I can’t seem to figure this one out. Ceci, he’s got my nerves on edge. Everything is riding on this date. Can’t you at least give me a hint?”
“I know this is a big thing for you, but even I have to admit . . . it’s terribly romantic what he’s doing.” Ceci let out a long, dreamy sigh. “Think about it. When was the last time Jackson gave you flowers?”
Becca laughed, the memories filling her mind. “He used to give me flowers all the time. He sent them before we even started dating. The first time he sent me flowers, I called to thank him. I admitted nobody had ever sent me flowers before. So he started sending them all the time. In fact . . .” A memory flooded her mind. Another room filled with roses, much like the one she currently sat in. As the realization washed over her, she squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. “Oh, I’m an idiot. Of course.”
“You understand now?” A distinct smile etched her sister-in-law’s voice. Ceci was clearly enjoying this. Jackson had enlisted the help of the exact right person.
Warmth filled Becca’s chest. “Yes. Thank you.”
Ceci was right. It was terribly romantic and exactly the kind of thing Jackson would do. At least, it was part of the things he used to do. Before they married and things fell apart. It was sweet. So sweet tears filled her eyes as she scanned the room again. He really had listened.
“Have a fantastic time. Oh, and Becca? You recall your advice to me when I asked you about Kyle last year?”
“I remember.” The exact memory filled her mind. Seated at the table in Ceci’s kitchen. Girl talk over cups of tea. Ceci had shared her secret with Becca that morning, and it had thrilled and honored her that she’d confided in her. Ceci and Kyle had begun to see each other and the change in their relationship had frightened her. How ironic that their roles were now reversed and Becca was the one in the position of terrified. Ceci had asked all the same questions that morning. “What if it doesn’t work? What if I lose him again?”
“I’m giving you the same advice. Close your eyes and jump.”
The line went dead. The second person in less than five minutes to hang up on her. Becca shook her head. Ceci’s advice simmered on the back burner as she once again dialed Jackson’s number.
This time, he picked up after one ring. “You figured out what the flowers meant.”
The pleasure in his voice had a smile curling across her mouth.
“You got me to go out with you by sending me flowers, one dozen every hour until I agreed.” She’d refused his offers the first dozen times he’d asked her to go out with him. She wasn’t a fool. Jackson had been a stranger back then, one seemingly taken with her. She knew better, taught classes on this very subject. Always be careful. He could have been a stalker for all she’d known. When the flowers kept coming, she was so beside herself, she’d finally agreed. Outside of her brothers, no other man had ever done something so sweet for her.
“Are you ready for this evening?”
Tension echoed across the line, fine and sweet and palpable. Her mind filled with the memory of his potent kisses, with the desire in his eyes, and her knees melted all over again.
“You’ve been teasing me all week.” She leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes. Her pulse raced, hammering out an unsteady beat, matching the rhythm of her shallow breaths. With a few simple words, he had her eating out of the palm of his hand. This time, she couldn’t resist allowing herself to fall into it. After all, that’s what this date was about, right? “It’s not fair to lead a gi
rl on.”
“Who says I’m leading you on? Maybe I’m just hoping to get lucky.”
Eyes still closed, the smile in his voice was clear, and she couldn’t help her echoing grin.
“Actually, there’s a method to my madness. I want you to know I take making love to you very seriously, and I want you to know being with you means something to me.” His voice was a husky murmur this time, and she idly wondered where he was. Was he sitting in his office? No doubt his employees had no idea their boss was one step from seducing his ex-wife over the phone. None of which did anything for the damp state of her panties.
She drew in a ragged breath. Every limb trembled, yet her heart ached with the sweetness of his admission. She opened her mouth, but words failed her. What could she say? How did she tell him he’d liquefied her insides? The thought of making love to him again had her blood running like lava in her veins, thick and hot and devastating everything in its path. He filled her with an ache only he could soothe. Yet the whole notion scared her to death. This was different. They were different. They were starting all over, and the notion left her with an ultra-vulnerable sensation she didn’t know how to deal with.
“Jack . . .”
“There’s another package coming for you. Two, actually. They should be there when you get home. I’ll be a little late. I have some last-minute details I need to see to, but I shouldn’t be too long.”
Red flags waved in her mind, reminiscent of the last two years of their marriage. All the times he’d called to tell her he was working late. She tried to ignore the panic swelling in her chest and the doubt whispering in her ear. He had a reason. He was different, and no matter how vulnerable and terrified she was, Ceci was right. She had to close her eyes against the doubt and jump in with both feet, allow herself to figure out if he really loved her. For their sake as well as Allie’s. But the emotions rose anyway, leaving Becca tongue-tied.
