Back in Service

by Isabel Sharpe

  She looked at him in confusion. “Which one what?”

  “Mom, Dad, Hayden, Mark or Matty?”

  “Ah.” Her face turned prim but he saw her lips twitch. “Unfortunately, I am not at liberty to disclose the identity of the— Oh!”

  He swung her around, pulled her into his arms and kissed her, hard and full on the mouth, dipping her back so she clutched his arm, afraid of falling.

  She gasped when he pulled back. “What are you doing?”

  “Kissing you.” He did so again, longer and sweeter this time, because as always once was not nearly enough.

  “I know that, but—”

  Twice wasn’t enough either. Her mouth was enticing, lips soft and responsive. His body reacted to their touch as if she’d been naked, performing an erotic dance on top of him. What would it be like to make love to her? He probably wouldn’t survive the experience. But he’d really, really like to try.

  “Now are you ready to confess, Ms. Lonergan?”

  “I’ll never talk. No matter how much you torture me.” She lifted her chin in defiance. “Though...you can keep trying.”

  He grinned and let her stand straight, fitted her body full against his so she’d feel how much he wanted her. She gave a tiny whimper and pressed against his erection, nearly causing him to lose his mind.

  Kissing was not going to be enough for long. He bent his forehead to hers and fought down the lust response. Public beach. Stopping was a good idea before he was tempted to take her right here and get them both arrested. And sandy. He took her hand again to continue their walk, making a mental note to turn back soon. To take her back to his place, her place, any place that had a bedroom. And a bed.

  He imagined her naked, that glorious hair spread out around her, around them both, and gave a silent groan.

  “You okay? Is it your knee?”

  “No, no, I’m fine.” Oops. Apparently not a silent groan. What had they been talking about? “So some Cartwright committed the mortal sin of wanting to help me.”

  Kendra pressed her lips together, which pouted them out slightly and made him want to taste them again. “Certainly possible.”

  “And he or she figured I’d be about as welcoming as a bear woken from hibernation if I knew a family member sent you.”

  She knitted her brows, sent him a sidelong look. “That is a logical supposition.”

  “And so this Cartwright decided you should tell me this was an Air Force doctor–led program so that I’d feel I had no choice but to put up with you.”

  “Well, Jameson.” She tapped a thoughtful finger to her lips. “I suppose that would make sense in the abstract, but of course I can’t really say.”

  He shook his head, grinning, and pulled her closer in order to bump her away again with his hip. “It’s devious, untruthful and yes, I suppose given the circumstances it makes sense.”

  “It does. I mean, imagine me showing up when you were so down and miserable and saying, hey, I know! Let’s do some counseling! Really, it’ll be fun!”

  He made a face. “I see your point.”

  “You were so down, and so disgusting to be around and so-o-o—”

  “Uh, yeah. Right. I get it.” He glared at her, dropped her hand then pulled her closer, arm around her waist. “What convinced you to help me?”

  “The money.”

  He forced a laugh, annoyed at himself. What, he’d expected her to say, Oh, Jameson, you know how you’ve always been special to me!

  Actually, that would have been great. “Money, huh?”

  “It’s all I live for.” She nudged to show she was teasing. “Really, I was curious. I wanted to see the great and powerful Jameson Cartwright brought low.”

  “By a cat.”

  She smiled, eyes sparking mischief, skirt swirling enticingly just above her knees. “You know, that’s the first time you’ve been able to mention that species.”

  He faked a shudder. “Evil creatures. Demon spawn.”

  “Have you always felt that way?”

  “Nah. I like cats. Used to like cats.”

  They walked on. He sensed her withdrawing into thought, surprised at how easily he could read her moods and body language.

  “Actually.” She was looking down now, concentrating on the flat sand under her feet. “I’ve been thinking of getting a dog for a while. Though I hate to give up working with Byron.”

  “Why don’t you get one?”

  “I don’t know.” She frowned as the incoming tide brought a wave close to her toes. “Sometimes...I’m afraid it’s because I’m scared.”

  “Of dogs?” He knew that wasn’t the answer, spoke gently to encourage her. Her struggle to confide in him made him want to put his arms around her and make her whole world safe. Twenty years. Damn it.

  “Of losing one.”

  Jameson took time to process that, slowing as the next wave led a mighty charge and sloshed cold water over their feet. She couldn’t bear to fall in love with a pet only to have it leave her. Like her parents had left. Like Jameson would, in two weeks.

  A frisson of panic climbed his spine. There wasn’t enough time. Not enough to get serious. Not enough to lay any claim to Kendra after he was gone. She’d be free to meet someone else when she was ready. Fall in love. Have kids.

  The thought was eating him up, and he’d done nothing more than kiss her.

  But then, he hadn’t been able to think calmly about Kendra Lonergan since he was six years old.

  “Give yourself more time. You’ll be able to love again someday. Look how your whole life is structured around caring for people. It’s in your nature.”

  “Yes. But I would like to be able to do it now.” She sounded vulnerable, shy, totally unlike the Kendra he knew.

  “Maybe you can.”

  “Jameson...”

  He reacted on pure instinct, reached for her and locked her in his arms, held her tightly, cold water swirling around their feet, splashing up on their lower legs, pulling at their ankles as it retreated, leaving bubbling patterns in the water and rivulets in the sand.

  This time their kiss was different. He wasn’t sure how at first, only that it wiped his brain clean, dwindled the world to the two of them and their mouths, their breath, the moisture on their lips and a powerful connection that sprang to life.

  Awed—nearly overwhelmed—he pulled back. For a second before she masked it, he saw the same fear and vulnerability on Kendra’s face that he’d heard in her voice.

  “We’re talking about a dog, right?” Her eyes were serious on his.

  “Of course a dog.” He kept his gaze on her, equally serious. “What else would we be talking about?”

  The ghost of a smile curved her delicious mouth. “No idea.”

  He leaned down, rested his forehead on hers again. “Would you like to come over to Mike’s place, Kendra?”

  “I was going to invite you to mine,” she whispered. “I need to take Byron back to Lena’s. It’s only a few blocks away.”

  “I’d like that.” He straightened, trailed fingers down the side of her face, then turned and walked with her back toward their quilt, thinking about the night to come.

  And it occurred to him in a rush of certainty that he’d been in love with Kendra Lonergan his whole life. And that he had only two weeks to prove to her she could love again—and that she’d always belonged with him.

  11

  THEY DROPPED BYRON off with Lena, who greeted Jameson warmly, chatted cordially and, every time his back was turned, made lewd tongue-hanging-out faces at Kendra, who could barely keep a straight face. Yes, Lena, he was hot. A large part of the reason she’d decided spending tonight together was a good idea. For both of them. Both were in need of human contact and tenderness, and neither would risk m
uch. He had a foot in the military and she’d discovered her parents’ deaths had left her with a reinforced steel wall around her heart to keep her from feeling too much. Funny how she hadn’t realized it was there for so long. A certain numbness after the initial agony of grief subsided was normal. But she hadn’t understood how effectively hers was working until it had faltered.

  She loved the way Jameson was so playful and teasing and affectionate. When he’d introduced kissing into their friendship, she’d taken it as a flirting extension of the same. But an hour ago, during their walk on Rat Beach, after she’d been talking about her fears, a friend-to-friend confession, he’d kissed her differently. In response part of her wall had softened. Only a part, only for a short time.

  But for that moment she realized how long it had been since she’d allowed herself to feel her own emotions. She’d become so used to—and so skilled at—repressing them in order to concentrate on her studies, and then, in her career, on the feelings of others, that she’d neglected herself.

  So many things now made sense. Why she hadn’t moved out of Mom and Dad’s house. Why she hadn’t traded the car, bought a dog, left the area even for a short time—so many steps that would define a true end to her childhood and to her life as a daughter. Steps that would symbolize the embracing of her life as an adult woman. Alone.

  All very deep thoughts, ones that would require more analysis and decisions, but as she pulled into her driveway, she decided that serious thoughts could damn well wait, because she was only about twenty yards from her bedroom and beside her was a guy she’d come to like a whole lot, and trust, and feel comfortable with—about as differently as she’d felt about him in high school as you could get.

  As long as she made tonight about an extension of the playful fun between them, she’d be safe.

  “Home sweet home.” She turned off the motor and smiled sweetly at Jameson as if she wasn’t planning to have him naked as soon as was decent after they got inside. She figured three or four seconds would do it.

  “Nice to be here.” Jameson threw her a sexy sideways look as he opened the door. They were going to have fun tonight.

  He joined her on the short walk to the house, which was taking forever.

  “Lena seems great. I didn’t know her in school.”

  “She’s as good as it gets.” Kendra’s keys were already out. “I would probably have lost my mind over the last couple of years without her.”

  “Then I like her even more.”

  The front door was open. They were inside.

  Three...two...one...

  No! Not yet.

  “Would you like a drink?” She tossed her keys nonchalantly onto the table by the door, pretending she hadn’t just had a near panic attack.

  “Sure. If you’re having one.”

  “I think I will.” She strode toward the kitchen, aware of him following closely, wanting to turn and kiss him, but also...not. “Beer? Wine? Something stronger? Whiskey in honor of your father?”

  “Got any bourbon?”

  “We do. That is, I do.” She opened the cabinet that her father had kept well stocked. He and Mom hadn’t been big drinkers, but they’d liked their little sips every night, and they’d liked to be able to offer guests whatever they wanted. “Let’s see. Maker’s Mark, named after your brother, Old Grand-Dad, fortunately not named after your brother and Woodford Reserve.”

  “Woodford. Excellent whiskey. Thank you. Are you having some, too?”

  “Absolutely.” She took down the bottle, thinking she could use about a gallon. That kiss on the beach must have unsettled her more than she’d thought. Or maybe she was just nervous because it had been a while since she’d slept with a man. Not that she’d forgotten how.

  She assumed.

  The last guy she’d been with had been her year-older boyfriend in college, Grant, who’d decided he had to go on to law school unencumbered by anything as distracting as a woman in his life. Last she’d heard he’d flunked out because of too much partying.

  Yeah, because that wasn’t at all distracting.

  She took down two crystal tumblers from the glass-fronted cabinets next to the liquor. Might as well go fancy tonight. It was a special evening.

  “Mind pouring for us?” Inspired, she headed for a drawer where her mother had kept candles and selected a few of the small, thick ones that fit into glass cups to shield the flames from the wind. A few Dove dark chocolates in a floral ceramic dish, a blanket her parents had kept in a drawer by the door for just such occasions and she was ready.

  Out the back door, they went down the brick steps to the pool level, where chaises were laid out on the concrete deck ringed by trees.

  On the table between two chaises, Kendra set up the candles and lit them. The glow was lovely, the air soft. Above them hung a moon, a bit more than a crescent, sharp white against the sky’s darkness. Around it a few stars were just beginning to be visible. A hot man who wanted her was settling beside her into a chaise, his long hard body stretching to fill it.

  Yes. Kendra was ready now. Really ready.

  She reached across to clink glasses, tossed back a good healthy swig of Woodford Reserve, loving the sweet burn, the rich smoky aftertaste. “Jameson.”

  “Mmm?” He was savoring his whiskey properly.

  “Would you like a chocolate?”

  “Sure.” He reached for the bowl; she stopped him with an outstretched hand. “Let me.”

  He looked at her over the candles, their light flickering across his handsome face. Something in her expression must have communicated itself to him because he shifted in his seat, took in a slow breath, then nodded. “Be my guest.”

  The air around them turned electric. Distant city sounds and the faint rush of surf traveled from down in the valley. But up where they sat, all was silent except for the occasional whisper of a breeze through the trees.

  Kendra got up and slowly unwrapped a chocolate square, peeling back the foil on each corner before exposing it completely. She put the small square halfway into her mouth, lips closed around its middle.

  Jameson watched, only his eyes moving over her face, until she took a step toward his chaise. He moved to give her room to sit facing him.

  “Kendra.” His voice was low, husky, sensual. “That looks really good.”

  She planted a hand on his firm chest and leaned forward, expecting him to bite.

  He didn’t. He closed his lips over the other half of the square and dragged his tongue across the chocolate, moistening it, melting it, so the rich taste spread between them.

  She was finding it hard to breathe, hard to think about anything but the nearness of his warmth, the heat of his body and her need for both.

  The kiss deepened; their tongues tasted the candy and each other until the chocolate was liquid, then gone, and they were left only with increasing passion.

  Strong arms came around her. Jameson pulled her onto his lap, stroking a line from her shoulder down her side, lingering over her bottom, then back up and across her front, lingering again between her breasts until she was aching for the feel of his fingers on them.

  His hands slipped under her top, stroked up her back and unhooked her bra, then traveled around with maddening leisure toward her breasts.

  Impatiently, she sat up, yanked her shirt over her head, slid off the bra and tossed it behind her.

  “Touch me, Jameson.”

  His answer was a groan of satisfaction as his palms brushed over her nipples, then closed over her breasts. She arched into his touch, head back, eyes closed, the cool air around them intensifying the warmth of his skin.

  He made her feel so beautiful, so alive, so powerfully sexy. As a woman she’d felt strong, capable, skilled and valued...but nothing like this.

  She liked this. Increasingly, she like
d everything about being with Jameson.

  Except that he was still wearing clothes.

  Her fingers tugged at the hem of his T-shirt, gray with the Dive ’n’ Surf shop logo and colorful surfboards. Nice shirt. Kendra wanted it off. She wanted to feel her breasts pressed against the hard wall of his bare chest.

  The shirt flew back over her head. In the dim candlelight his torso was indeed a work of art, warm and male. She lifted to straddle him, feeling the length of his erection hot and hard through the thin material of his shorts and her panties. She leaned forward, rubbed her breasts over the muscled landscape of his chest, loving the stimulation, the intimacy, the sheer animal pleasure of skin on skin, of touching and being touched.

  Breath escaped him as if releasing it was both pain and pleasure. His hands traveled to her hips, under the elastic waistband of her skirt, finding and stroking her buttocks, moving her over his erection.

  “You feel incredibly good, Kendra.”

  “Mmm.” She kissed his neck, inhaling his scent, immersed in her senses. “So do you.”

  “I’ve wanted this since before I knew what it was.”

  She giggled, raising herself up to look at him, gently tracing his lips with her finger. “That long?”

  “Look at you.” He let his head fall back on the chair, pushing rhythmically under her, making her sway. “You are so beautiful.”

  With him she felt that way, inside and out. So when he sat up, saving her from pitching backward with strong arms on her back, and twisted them over until she was lying beside him on the chaise, then underneath, she went willingly.

  This was what she wanted for both of them.

  Starting at her calf, Jameson drew one hand up the length of her leg, stopping to caress her sex through her panties, transferring warmth and pressure that made her feel less in control. Rather hot and desperate, in fact.

  He lifted her skirt and wriggled down to kiss the material between her legs, his mouth warm and firm.

  “Oh.” She closed her eyes, a slight breeze fanning her heated cheeks. “That is amazing.”

  “So are you.” Gently he pulled down her panties, exposing her to the night air. “And you’re beautiful here, too.”