“Well,” she said, “you know, a sex tape could bring in some decent money, and the campaign could use a few bucks . . .”
The sheer disbelief on his face was enough to make her laugh, restoring some of the strength to her still-humming limbs.
“Joke, Cole. Don’t worry. Breathe, okay?”
His nod was pure instinct, she knew. He was still playing catch-up.
She knew the feeling.
“Jenna, look. I’m not going to pretend I don’t want to finish this, but I think . . .”
Oh no. No thinking. Thinking was bad, especially when there was a big but in front of it.
“My apartment is two doors down and there’s no one home.”
He blinked. His fingers, which had been working to re-button his shirt, stilled.
Except for the shaking, of course.
“Jenna . . .”
“Look, I’m not stupid, Cole. I know all the reasons why this might not be the best idea, but you know what? I don’t care. I’m only going to be in town until after Christmas. And let’s be honest—I’ll probably never see you again once the election is over. So at best we have a couple of months. I don’t care. I’m not in the market for a big relationship. The last few years have been less than delightful, and I still have a whole lot of me to get in order before I can focus on anyone else.” She breathed in deep. “But damn it, Cole. That doesn’t mean I can’t take a side trip while I’m on the road.”
“I can’t argue with that.” He ran one tentative finger down her cheek. “Even if I could, I wouldn’t want to. But I think . . . it’s been a wild night. Maybe we should take a step back. Think things over.”
“I—”
“Just for a day or two.”
She didn’t like it. Wait had just become her least-favorite word in the entire English language, and probably in a few others as well.
But she couldn’t push him. Not on this.
She couldn’t make herself say any words of agreement—that would feel too much like a lie—so she simply nodded and gave her skirt a tug.
“Jenna, believe me—”
She raised both hands. “No. Don’t. I get it, I understand, we’re . . .” Good? Hell, no. Good had taken on a whole new definition, and her newly awakened body was letting her know that walking away right now was most definitely not good. “I just hope you’re a fast thinker.”
His grin was almost normal. “I do a lot better when my attention isn’t on other things.” Which could have sounded like a brush-off, if not for the way his gaze lingered on her twisted clothing.
Still, she knew she needed to get out of there fast. “I guess I’ll head home.”
“Right. Absolutely. Give me a second to lock up and I’ll walk you there.”
She couldn’t hold back a short laugh. “Did you forget the part about me being just two doors down?”
He pulled keys from his pocket and gave her a look that had her insides curling and beckoning once again. “Trust me, Jenna. I heard that part loud and clear.”
Maybe all wasn’t as lost as she’d feared.
Chapter Eight
Jenna retrieved her bag. She could try to convince him that he didn’t need to escort her to her door, but it would be a waste of breath. Cole was the protective sort. He would feel compelled to make sure she arrived home safe and sound. Goofy and unnecessary but, she admitted, it was ridiculously endearing.
Seriously, was this guy for real?
She stared at the sky while he locked up and set the alarm. There were too many lights here to see much of anything in the sky, but she knew what was there and could picture it all, the moon and the stars so far away and yet so bright that it was easy to think she could reach out and touch them.
“Did you ever go to camp when you were a kid?” she asked.
“Sure. Boy Scouts.”
Oh, there was a surprise..
“I didn’t. But once or twice each summer, Mom and Aunt Margie would pack us up and take us to our grandparents’ place out in the country. We would hang sheets over tree branches to make a sort-of tent, but half the time we didn’t use it. We usually spent the night out in the open because we’d be so busy looking up at the sky that we fell asleep out there.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“It was.” Yet that wasn’t all. Those times, with her sisters in sleeping bags around her, and Mom and Margie giggling over something one of them had said, and the stars surrounding her like the world’s most amazing blanket—well. The Elias girls hadn’t spent many Sundays in church, but those nights were the ones that convinced Jenna there had to be something mind-blowing in charge of the universe.
“You’ve mentioned your Aunt Margie a couple of times.” He gave the door handle a shake, no doubt to ensure it was locked up as tight as his virtue. Seemingly satisfied—well, at least one of them was happy—he started walking toward her door. “She sounds like quite a character.”
“What gave you that idea? The fact that she makes scarecrows that look like Justin Bieber?”
“Justin—Are you kidding?”
“Nope. She said there’s nothing in the natural world that isn’t afraid of him.”
“How’s it working?”
Jenna laughed. “Have to admit, nothing got into the garden this year.”
His laugh, low but full, had her insides curling once more. The whole sensation of firing on all cylinders once again was so intoxicating that she almost wanted to prolong things, just so she could memorize these feelings for whatever loneliness might lie ahead.
On the other hand, when it came to lust, there was more where that came from. And Jenna had always been more tempted by the indulgences she already knew and loved than by the unknown.
“So is she older than your mom, or younger?”
Lost in her own X-rated fantasies, it took Jenna a moment to regain the conversational thread. “Um . . . you mean Margie? She’s a couple of years younger.”
“Really? That sounds like older-sibling material to me.”
“Oh, she’s not my mother’s sister.”
“She’s from your father’s side?”
“Mmm hmmm.” Maybe she could hold his hand. Even if she couldn’t jump him, she was pretty sure that getting close to naked—in a semi-public space, no less—entitled her to a little hand-holding.
“That seems. . . . unusual.”
Jenna let her hand brush against Cole’s, slow and deliberate, giving him plenty of opportunity. On the second pass, he grabbed it.
Sweet.
“Margie has never forgiven Da— my father for what he did to us. She said she could handle a criminal in the family, but making everyone who loves you think that you’re dead was too much for her. And since she’s one of the most compassionate women on the planet, you know that’s saying something.”
“Yeah. Was there any fallout when she sided with your mom over your dad?”
“There wasn’t anyone to object. Their mother died soon before my father was arrested, and their father was already living in his own reality.”
“That sounds like it was almost a blessing. That they weren’t aware of what happened.”
“Oh, absolutely.” As in, she absolutely had to do more than hold hands with this guy. Preferably in the next thirty minutes or less.
“Here you go.” He stopped outside the door to the coffee shop. She shook her head and took his arm, leading him on.
“No. Sorry. At night, we use the back door. It’s better for the security system.”
Okay, that wasn’t always true. If they had to use the front, they could and did. But going in the back way meant they would be right by the stairs to the loft apartment. It also meant—tonight, at least—a longer walk beneath the stars. And a more hidden approach to the building.
And more time to sway him to her way of th
inking.
“So we have to go all the way around the mall?”
“Afraid so. Are you in a hurry?”
“I should be. It’s been a long day.” He slipped his fingers through hers, setting her insides sparking once more. “But I have to admit, this is one of the best parts so far.”
He had no idea.
“I probably should have said something earlier,” she said, sliding in a little closer. “About it being a longer walk than you thought. But if you want the truth, you kind of scrambled the parts of my brain that are in control of logical thinking.”
He didn’t say anything. But the hand that had been holding hers slipped up and around her shoulders, tucking her in closer to his side, making a shudder run along the length of her body.
The hell with anticipation and waiting.
“Cole?”
“Hmmm?”
“What made you want to run for mayor?” She let her head drop to his shoulder, filling herself with the mingled scents of cotton, ink, and sweat that would always remind her of him. “And before you answer, I’m not asking for the standard politician line about wanting to do your part. That’s a given. But what about this called to you?”
“You want the long answer or the short one?”
“The long one, please.” Unless the short one involved getting the words out of the way so they could move on to actions.
“Okay. When I was a kid, we lived on a hill. Big sucker. Not a lot of traffic, either, so we used it for playing. The big thing was to grab a pair of roller skates and fly down there as fast as you could.”
“And your mothers never stopped you?”
“Moms can’t see everything.”
“Oooh, you rebel. I’m so impressed.”
His fingers curled into her waist, sending flickers of want flowing from all points of contact. Yep. Definitely impressed.
“The thing was,” he continued, “that there was a really busy road at the bottom of the hill. We all were sure that we were way too good on our skates to ever have a problem.”
“I have this sudden dread that I’m not going to like the way this ends.”
“Don’t worry. There’s a happy ending.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
She brushed a kiss along the side of his neck. “I’m holding you to that.”
For a moment it seemed that she might have distracted him enough to set them on the path to a very different kind of happy ending, but after a slow, slightly ragged inhalation, he continued walking. And talking.
“One day,” he said, as they rounded the corner at the far end of the mall, “a new kid moved in a couple of doors down from me. He was a year older and about twelve years more grown-up than any of us. He saw us flying down that hill and he came out with his skateboard and said that if we thought that was something, we should get a load of this. And then he sailed down the hill, turned at the bottom, and came halfway back up. All without even trying.”
“Did you all stand there with your mouths open?”
“Basically, yeah. All the other guys ran home and started bugging their folks for skateboards. You never heard so many piggy banks being broken open. But I didn’t have money for one. My folks didn’t do allowances, and my birthday had been a month earlier, so I knew I was SOL.”
“So what did you do?”
“I waited. And watched. And a week later, when one of the kids went ass over teakettle and almost hit a car, I told my mother that the kids were being dangerous.”
“You little weasel!”
“Funny, that’s about what she said. She knew what I was trying to do. She warned the other moms, then told me to stop being a sore loser, and suck it up.”
Their walk had slowed. His doing? Hers?
“Why do I have the feeling that you refused to go along with her advice?”
“Guess I’m too transparent for you.” His lips grazed the top of her head. “I call what happened next, serendipity.”
“Don’t stop now.”
“It was election time. Candidates were out ringing bells. One of them came up to our door and saw me sitting on the front steps, sulking and watching everyone else. Asked me something silly about being old enough to vote. I said I wished I was, because I would vote for stupid skateboards to be illegal.”
The thrill of anticipation that arced through her was almost as strong as her lust. “You didn’t.”
“The guy looked at me, then at the kids, then at the hill. And he said, ‘Son, that is an accident waiting to happen. You’re smart to be sitting this one out.’ Then he promised that if he was elected, he would make sure that there would be a stop sign halfway down our hill and a no skateboarding sign.”
“He bought the vote of a, what, ten-year-old?”
“Twelve. And he didn’t get my vote. He got me. I looked up and told him I wanted one of his signs for our yard. I made my mom take me to his headquarters so I could volunteer. I walked all over our neighborhood, sticking brochures in doors. By the time the election rolled around I’d forgotten all about the skateboards and roller skates. I had found politics, and I was hooked.”
“Did your guy win?”
“Yep.”
“Don’t tell me. It was Paul Tadeson.”
Cole’s laugh cut through the night, bouncing off the wall behind them and rebounding to wrap around her as warm and inviting as his arm across her shoulders. “Nah. This isn’t a Disney movie. His name was Steve O’Sullivan, and after serving on the town council for a few years, he left to become a priest.”
No no no. Discussing the priesthood was not going to help her make her goal for the night. “You’re kidding.”
“Swear it’s the truth. I was so pissed when he made the announcement.”
“Did he follow through on his promises?”
“Oh yeah. The signs went up the next spring. ’Course, by then all my friends had discovered girls, so it didn’t matter as much. But still. He kept his word.”
“An admirable quality in anyone. Especially in a politician.”
“Believe it or not, some of us do like to fulfill our promises.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Good.” She stopped, turned within the circle of his arms, and slid her hands up his chest. “Because not five minutes ago, I believe you promised me a happy ending.”
“Jen—” he said, but that was as far as he got before her mouth was on his, soaking up his words, his breath, his resistance. She kissed her way along his lips, lingering at the corners, her hands fisted in his shirt and nothing but her mouth making her case. She kissed him slow and she kissed him fast, varying her tempo, making it impossible, she hoped, for him to know what was coming next. She wanted him wondering. Imagining. Anticipating.
“Jenna. You are making this—”
“Shh. It’s my turn to talk.”
He made a small noise, halfhearted at most. She silenced it with her own lips.
“Listen.” She whispered against his lips, barely raising her mouth from his, so every syllable brought another brush of skin on skin. “I understand why you think it’s a good idea to wait. You don’t like to rush into things. That’s okay. And if you still feel that way when I’ve said my piece, I promise I’ll back away.”
His lips grazed hers as he swallowed.
“All I ask is that you listen. Just for another minute. Okay?”
When he nodded, his nose nuzzled against her cheek. The temptation to move in and let her body do the talking was almost overwhelming, but she made herself stop. She could seduce him into this with her mouth and her hands and her other parts. She knew it. But this was Cole. When this happened, it had to be because he was as certain as she was. And the only way to make that happen was to appeal to more than his body.
“Here’s
the thing, Cole. There hasn’t been anybody since my ex. That’s a long time.”
His eyelids fluttered against her cheek. His rough sigh rolled across her mouth.
“I’m not telling you that to make you think I’m desperate.” Even though she most certainly was. “Because for most of that time, I haven’t been in any kind of shape to even think about sex. Mostly, my body has been about pain, and frustration, and learning things all over again. It’s hard to feel sexy or confident when you have to consciously think about walking again, you know?”
“Jenna—”
“Shhh, shh. It’s okay. It’s just what happened, and I’m lucky to have a second chance. It’s all good. But since I met you . . . it’s like I’m remembering all the good parts about being a physical person again. I’m feeling alive in a way I haven’t in a long time. So I want to say thank you. For helping me, you know. Wake up again.”
“I keep thinking of Sleeping Beauty.”
“Tell the truth. You don’t want to be mayor. You have a burning lifelong desire to be Prince Charming.”
“Well, you know, if you’re a guy who’s into tights, it’s either Prince Charming or superhero. I’m lousy at flying and all that, so Prince seemed like a more attainable goal.”
She laughed along with him, moving in, head tipped back so she could kiss the underside of his chin. “You, Cole Dekker, are highly mesmerizing. Do you know that?”
“I could say the same to you, Just Jenna.”
“Well then, since we have that out of the way . . .” She stood on tiptoe to kiss him again. Longer and ever so slightly harder than before, tipping backward the slightest bit so he had to lean forward to maintain contact. And—oh gee—he had to grab her shoulders to keep his balance. And then—surprise, surprise—his hands moved down. Sliding. Kneading. Healing.
Had anything ever felt so damned amazing in her life?
She broke the kiss just enough to allow a whisper.
“I’m not going to beg,” she said against his lips. “And I’m not going to say anything else. Except that it feels really good to feel this good again.
She waited, barely breathing. No more tricks. No more attempts at seduction. The ball was in his court now, and all she could do was wait to see how he wanted to play it.
Life of the Party Page 11
