by Jane Linfoot
‘Hmmm’
That had brought her chatter to a halt, and caused her to veer across the pavement slightly, this time bringing her closer to him, although she was still staring firmly at her feet.
‘It’s flattering, it’s fun, guys are susceptible and I was no different. I hold my hands up to that. But you’re right to imply that most guys grow out of it, or at least learn to handle it, and get into relationships.’
‘But you didn’t.’
‘Nope. And I’d never really questioned why before. I admit when we met I was trying to clean up my bad-boy act but only to make my life easier by getting the press off my back. I’d never stopped to think seriously about it, until the day you put me under fire and I didn’t have a leg to stand on. So when I went back to wrap up with the team in Spain I dropped in for a chat with the psychologist. They’re mostly there to help with confidence and motivation, but they know about other stuff too. Apparently, boys whose parents split up when they’re teenagers often find relationships hard.’
‘That’s you, isn’t it?’
‘My mother upped and left when I was seventeen.’ He shrugged. Out there again, but this time he knew their future depended on him opening up. The thought of having a child of his own, becoming a parent himself, had made him see his own parents in a whole different light.
She was close by his elbow now. ‘I know, you told me that day in the park, but I knew you didn’t want to talk about it then. How did you feel about it?’
The sweet scent of her hair tickled his nostrils.
‘Angry mostly, because my life had been ripped apart. Before the split, home life was always dominated and driven by my dad, but my mum made home comfortable. She always waded in to protect us from his harsher side when we were younger, but after she left, it was rough. Connor, Nic and I stayed with my dad, and with four guys it wasn’t exactly homely. He bad-mouthed my mother incessantly, and we never questioned that because she was the one who’d left. I suppose we held her responsible for all the hurt and when she wanted to see us we wouldn’t have any of it. And I guess what I took into adult life was that it wasn’t worth investing in a relationship, if it was only going to come crashing down. As a winner, there were always new girls queuing up for my attention. By avoiding relationships, it meant I never had to trust anyone, and I never risked getting hurt. It’s like I was too scared to trust, so I made sure I never had to, not that I ever thought that was responsible for the way I lived my life.’
‘Jackson…’ Her hand landed lightly on his forearm, making every hair on his skin quiver.
‘When my parents split I went right off the rails and there was no one to stop me. I went wild, partying round the clock. Drinking and faceless sex were an oblivion that helped to blot out the pain. But I had no idea those patterns were going to be set in stone for the best part of the next twenty years, or that it would take the thought of me being a parent to realise I should have changed my ways years ago.’
‘And what happened to your mother?’ Cherry’s wrapped her arm through his, and her hip swung in rhythm with his own as they walked.
‘I didn’t see her, I locked every thought of her away, kept her in a box in my head along with the hurt and the blame. When I saw the psychologist, he suggested I needed to give her a chance to tell me her side of the story. She’s living in France now, in Brittany. So I screwed up my courage and called in, on my way back from Spain.’
‘Oh my.’ Cherry’s exclamation was little more than a breath. ‘How was it?’
‘It was hard at first, but at least now I understood exactly why she left. My dad bullied her, like he bullied us, and made her life a misery but she didn’t have success to hold his attention and soften his harder side. She put up with hell, she stayed until she knew we were old enough to survive without her, and yet all these years I blamed her, for something that wasn’t her fault. I was old enough, I should have seen the truth, I should have kept up the contact and I feel so guilty for that now I understand better.’
‘That’s so awful, but I bet she’s so happy to be in touch with you again.’
‘We have a lot of lost years to make up for. But do you know, she had every race clipping. Ever since she left she’d carried on following our progress, even though we’d cut her off. For all those years I thought she’d ditched us, when in reality it was pretty much the other way around.’
‘It’s making me cry…’ Cherry sniffed, pushed a tissue to her nose, and rubbed her cheek against his chest.
‘I expected to meet a stranger, but instead I found someone who had left, but who never stopped loving me.’
As Jackson paused to swallow the lump that was blocking his throat, Cherry swung around in front of him, and the warmth of her cheek banged soft against his neck. Burying his face in her hair, he dragged in a breath.
‘And I have you to thank for that. You were strong enough to point out my shortcoming, and by facing up to it and trying to sort myself out, I found my mother again.’ With one finger, he tilted Cherry’s head back and met her clear eyes, shiny with tears. ‘But in the end, it’s not sad; it’s good, because talking to her set me free, just like the psych hoped it would. All this time I thought I couldn’t trust, because of the way she let me down, but actually she didn’t let me down at all. She was there for me all the time, I just didn’t choose to see it. Knowing that, I have no reason not to trust, and no reason to fear commitment, and that makes me confident I could be there for a child. I wouldn’t have any reason to run out, because more than anything, I want to be there for our child.’
He wasn’t even going to talk about being there for her – that was one step too far for now. That part he had to keep to himself. No way could he risk scaring her. Cherry had her face turned up to him, her lips slightly parted, and this time, whatever the risk, he had to bring his mouth down, to taste. Softly, gently, the lights across the river blurring in his peripheral vision, as he closed his eyes. Tentative, tender, delicious. Warm, like coming home. Easy, like a summer day. And then as she responded, hot and strong and hungry, her tongue delving deep, her body thrusting against his, their two lusty libido’s kicked in and all hell broke loose.
‘Hey, get a room…’
No idea how long they’d been devouring each other when that shout, from some passing skateboarders, forced them to break that kiss. Move their heads apart.
‘Maybe we should…’ Jackson’s voice was gruff.
Cherry standing on tip toe, hissed in his ear. ‘There’s hot chocolate at home if you fancy?’
Reeling for a moment, he could hardly believe what he was hearing. Not that he’d dared to hope for this, and his pumping chest was aching in case he did something to blow it. ‘Now you’re talking.’
He slid his hand down and closed his fingers around hers, then he slowly whirled her around and eased her in the direction of her flat.
Chapter 51
Trying to keep her hands off Jackson as they walked home had been one big problem, but necessary, seeing as any PDA’s were likely to get entirely out of hand, given the gaping ache that was throbbing between her legs. Allowing him back to the flat, inviting him even, was a huge about turn for her, and she knew it had big implications. She really didn’t want to lead Jackson on, to imply an involvement with him she couldn’t follow through on. She might be opening herself up to a lot of hurt here, but he’d put in so much effort on his part, trying to sort out the tangles of his past so he could step up for his new role. That had to show a level of commitment and interest on his part. She hadn’t forced him into going to see his mother, which must have been hard for him, and since he’d put himself through that it seemed only fair that she should rein in her fears and give him a chance, just for this evening. Give a little, without getting into too much danger. She’d reined in her wildest excesses and managed not to flatten him against the wall of the stairwell and jump him as they came up to her flat. Note that sensible girl she was, she’d avoided the lift altogether, putting co
nfines like that in the ‘way too dangerous’ category. To think she’d been alarmed by those teensy tweaks of desire when they’d been at the flat before, whereas now this was lust with a capital ‘L’. Lust, with the caps lock stuck completely on, more like, and where the hell had this come roaring in from? And more to the point, how the heck was she going to handle it? She pushed her key into the lock, swung into the flat ahead of him, and took refuge behind the kitchen counter simply to gain a bit of thinking time. Not easy when your brain felt like blurry, cotton-wool, due to your body screaming ‘yes’ and every bit of your sensible mind yelling ‘NO, NO, NO.’
She clattered a couple of cups down onto the counter, flung open the fridge door and made a grab for the milk.
‘Tell me you’re not…’ Jackson arrived, put both hands on the granite counter edge, and smouldered across at her.
Glad that Jackson had moved to the less dangerous side of the counter, she slammed down a saucepan and slopped in some milk. ‘Not what?’
‘Making hot chocolate?’ His gritty voice was low enough to resonate through her.
‘Stop undermining me, and go and sit on the sofa.’ At least she’d stand more of a chance of resisting him if he was further away, and didn’t blast her with his scent at every turn. Maybe she was feeling like this because back there she felt so sorry for Jackson and all she’d wanted to do was wrap her arms around him and make his hurt go away. Perhaps this was her crazy pregnancy protection hormones surging into action hoping to make him feel better. Or maybe too, it was her wholehearted appreciation for what he’d put himself through to make himself good enough for the job ahead. If ever she’d seen a guy man up, this had to be it.
‘Fine, I thought you might need some help that’s all.’ He lowered himself onto the sofa, threw one careless arm across the back, stuck one foot on his knee. All delicious and relaxed then. ‘Distant memories of when you set off every smoke alarm in Dartmouth trying to make cocoa?’ Rubbing his thumb pensively on his bottom lip, he flipped her one decidedly dark grin and shifted his hips.
Damn those creases in his cheeks. Damn the man for his easy, knee-wobbling sexuality, and the way he was so obviously flaunting that giant bump in his trousers. And damn to how goddam irresistible it was, and that she really wasn’t going to be able to stop herself from going to touch it. Except she had to, given she was trying to keep this simple and no more horribly complicated than it already was.
‘Smoke alarms? That was ages ago – there’s been a lot of water gone under a lot of bridges since then.’ And gallons of hot chocolate consumed in the name of keeping her nausea at bay, not to mention a whole month of no sex. No sex, coming straight after enough sex in one weekend to last most people a lifetime, and maybe her body was just needy for a tiny bit more. Needy in a desperate, ravenous way, okay, but needy being all it was, and one bang with Jackson might just sort that out. She squirmed, momentarily stunned by the base nature of that thought and the involuntary contraction volley it set off between her thighs.
‘I know you have a weakness for firefighters, but there’s no need to call in the fire-brigade when I’m completely happy to take on the job myself.’ One more delectably awful shift of his hips. ‘Just saying…’ Another heart-pummelling grin.
Oh no. She set down the milk, walked deliberately around the counter and crossed the room. Already imagining how it was going to feel rubbing her breasts across that stubble. Just for a moment, she paused in front of him, on the sofa. Then, thanking God that she’d put on a skater dress, she lunged, caught one tanned hand in each of hers, flipped her skirt aside and, as she crashed her crotch onto his, she pinned down his arms. ‘That’s enough…’ Except now she was here, the thrust of him against her pants, through the soft denim of his jeans, was already sending her to heaven, one glorious grind at a time. She made herself steady her hips.
‘Hey, careful, mind your arm…’ A pained expression passed across his face, and as he withdrew his defences, his body went limp, in all but the one, most crucial, area.
‘My arm’s almost mended, the plaster’s coming off soon.’ She shook her hair over her eyes, feeling a little exposed here, but couldn’t help settling herself further onto him.
‘And how have you been, apart from your arm? Aren’t pregnant women supposed to feel like death and throw up all over the place?’
She gave a low laugh. ‘I’ve managed to do all of that, and a lot of sleeping. As for the throwing up, I’ve no idea why it’s called morning sickness, because mine went on day and night.’ Noting his horrified expression she hurried to reassure him. ‘But it’s suddenly eased off, and now I’m eating like a horse. What about you, how’s your retirement going, what are you doing?’ Small talk, albeit about things she wanted to know, was a good way of avoiding the issue pushing up so nicely between her legs.
‘Leaving the team isn’t as much of a shock as I’d anticipated.’ He rubbed a finger gently up and down her inner thigh as he spoke. ‘I’m still going to work with the younger riders on and off until my contract runs out. The British team have been in touch about coaching too, maybe even full time. Dan’s gone into over-drive sorting TV appearances and public speaking stuff. I’m hardly going to have time to get out on my bike.’
‘Hey, that’s great.’ How could one finger grazing her thigh make her ache for him so badly? She settled further down onto him. ‘I told you it would work out, didn’t I?’
‘And what about…?’ He sounded very unsure. ‘Is this even allowed? Should I even be touching you at all? Jeez, what if I…?’
Something about his rush of concern sent a warm glow firing through her body. ‘It’s fine, Jackson, the doctor said as long as I’d like to, it’s actually beneficial.’ Noting how they were carefully missing out all the more loaded words, skirting around actually saying it out loud, made her smile.
His voice was gruff as he sent her a loaded smile. ‘I hear hormones can work wonders on your libido.’
‘Hear from where?’ Sheesh, if he’d googled ‘pregnant and desperate for sex’ and read the same results she had, he’d be expecting her to eat him whole.
‘Dan and Phoebe have been through this twice don’t forget, you women aren’t the only ones who share information…’ He gave a guilty grimace. ‘And I couldn’t help noticing a certain toy on your bedside earlier.’
‘What?’ As she squirmed under the scrutiny of his deeply searching gaze, she knew, from the heat, that her cheeks were scarlet. Damn the man for crashing into her private space, and an even bigger damn that she hadn’t tidied up after herself.
‘Nothing to be ashamed of, Cherry.’ His lips twitched, as if he was holding in his laughter.
‘I’m not ashamed.’ She gave a carefree toss of her head. ‘Except maybe for how messy the flat has got with me operating one-handed.’ She aimed for nonchalant and no way could she begin to admit to him that the toy in question hadn’t come anywhere close to satisfying her need.
‘Personally, I see messy as a good thing, if it means you’re easing up on the control.’ Funny how the resonant burr of his voice soothed her. ‘And anyway, I seem to remember you enjoyed a bird’s eye view of me in the shower one time…’
Soothing, and then he comes out with that? ‘Crap, Jackson, why bring that up now?’
He was laughing openly. ‘Well, doesn’t it kind of make us equal?’
She pursed her lips, shook her head. ‘I really have no idea.’ Except she did, because he’d made the perfect observation.
‘So would you…like to?’ His voice, like rough sandpaper, sent shivers over her body.
‘Maybe…’ Only the size of what she was sitting on, and the certainty of where it was going, gave her the leeway to feign indifference. Suddenly aware that her nipples were sticking through the thin fabric of her dress far enough to be practically poking his eyes out, she dipped her shoulders, lowered her mouth to his ear. ‘Once might be exactly what I need.’
Chapter 52
Bryony woke next morni
ng from the deepest sleep she’d had in ages, satiated and deeply comfortable. Stretching a lazy arm across the bed, her tummy lurched in alarm when, instead of warm man, she found cold space. Prising her eyes open, she jumped at the view of Jackson’s line-crossing face grimacing on the opposite wall. Oh my. This to look forward to on a daily basis? Then, as she scanned the pillow beside hers, her lips curled into an involuntary smile and she let out a sigh of relief. Even if the clock showed she’d been mistaken in that it was afternoon not morning, at least the indentation in the pillow was proof that she hadn’t slept alone, proof that she hadn’t dreamed the last twelve hours. No way was her dream imagination capable of conjuring up anything as hot as the non-stop sex they’d enjoyed last night. So that was the old ‘one time would be enough’ theory out of the window then.
‘Hey.’ She looked up as Jackson wandered into the bedroom and brought her musings to an abrupt halt.
‘I made tea given the kitchen seems to be a coffee exclusion zone. I take it the morning sickness put you off it?’
Nothing quite as promising as a guy in low-slung jeans and nothing else, carrying a full breakfast tray. One time? Seemed like one night hadn’t been enough given the twang in the pit of her stomach, announcing that her body was already screaming for an action replay.
‘Tea’s perfect. You’ve been out to the bakery? How did you know I’d be ravenous?’
