Not trusting his voice, Jack nodded.
"Cool!" Billy hopped up to stand on the mattress and whipped the belt around his waist, bending his head over so he could see to fasten it in place. He lifted his head, and a grin split his face from ear to ear. "Thanks, Jack," he said, and held up his hand.
Jack slapped it with his own, then stood. "Now hop back into bed before Alayna catches you up and skins both our heads."
Billy dropped to his bottom, laughing as he bounced on the mattress. "She won't be mad," he said. "We made a deal. I can stay awake as late as I want just so long as I stay in my bed." He grinned impishly up at Jack. "And I'm in my bed."
Jack shook his head, chuckling, and reached to ruffle Billy's hair. "Well, I'm not, so I guess I'd be the one to get my head skinned." He pulled back the covers. "Now in you go," he ordered. Billy flopped down on his back and Jack pulled the sheet over his chest. He switched off the lamp and started to withdraw. Billy stopped him by calling his name.
"Jack?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you leavin' or something?"
Jack pressed his lips together and nodded. "Yeah, Billy. I'm leaving."
"Why?"
Jack lifted a shoulder. "My work here's all done."
"I'll bet Alayna'd let you stay if you asked."
Jack shook his head. "No. It's time I moved on."
"Will you come back and see us?"
Jack thought he heard tears in the boy's voice, but couldn't be sure. "I don't know, Billy."
Billy slipped down lower on his pillow, drawing the sheet to his chin. "Don't you like us?"
Jack had to suck in a deep breath before he could answer that one. "Yeah, Billy, I like you just fine. But—well, it's just time for me to move on." He bent over, lifting a hand to give Billy a high five. Billy lifted his hand, too, but before his hand touched Jack's, he jack-knifed from the bed and threw himself against Jack's chest. "I don't want you to go," he sobbed. "I want you to stay here with us."
Strangled by the tears that gathered in his throat, Jack hugged the boy tight against him, sure that his heart was going to break. Slowly, he peeled Billy's arms from around his neck. He guided him back beneath the covers and smoothed a hand across his forehead. "I wish I could, Billy," he whispered. "I wish I could."
He straightened, and took a step back. "Now you stay out of trouble, you hear me?"
"Yessir," Billy mumbled, then sniffed.
"And you take care of Alayna and the girls, all right?"
"I will."
"Bye, Billy," Jack whispered as he backed from the room.
"Bye, Jack," he heard the boy whisper in return.
* * *
Ten
« ^
Jack opened his eyes, instantly awake. Someone was in the cabin. He listened for another sound, wondering if he had time to grab the whiskey bottle beneath his bed to use as a weapon. He heard a soft footstep behind him, and cursed his habit of sleeping with his back to the door. He knew that if it came to a fight, he'd have to rely on his hands. There wouldn't be time to go for the bottle.
He felt the mattress dip behind him and he rolled to his side with a feral growl, his hand fisted and ready to throw a punch. He managed to stop his hand inches from a shadowed face that looked all too familiar.
"Alayna?"
She shrank away from him, eyeing the doubled-up fist inches from her nose. "Y-yes," she whispered, then laughed nervously. "It's me."
Jack dropped his fist to the mattress with a groan, then shot her a frown. "Don't you know it's not safe to sneak up on a sleeping man that way? I could've broken your nose."
She pulled back the covers and slipped beneath them. "But you didn't."
There was just enough moonlight coming through the window that he could see her face. Not clearly, but enough to see that she was smiling.
"What in the hell do you think you're doing?" he asked as she curled a foot around his bare leg.
Her smile drew nearer. "I came to seduce you," she whispered and he would swear that was liquor he smelled on her breath.
"Seduce me," he repeated, staring at her as if she'd just grown two horns.
"Yes, seduce you." She snuggled closer, laying a hand on his bare thigh and stroking.
He jerked his leg back, knocking her hand away. "Are you drunk?"
She laughed, sitting up to toss her hair back over her shoulder, then rested her cheek on her palm. "I remember asking you that one time."
Jack's frown deepened. "Yeah, I remember that, too. But I wasn't drunk."
"I'm not, either."
He peered more closely at her, squinting to better see her face in the darkness. "Are you sure?"
"Yes. I'm sure. I only had two margaritas."
"Two margaritas," he repeated, then cocked his head to look at her suspiciously. "Is that what you and your cousins were doing in the kitchen till all hours of the night? Drinking margaritas?"
She nodded her head. "That and talking."
He narrowed an eye at her. "And where are your cousins now?"
"Well, Merideth and Mandy went home, but Sam stayed."
"She's at the house?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because she drew the shortest straw."
Jack heaved a frustrated breath. "No. I mean, why is she still at the house?"
"Well, I couldn't very well leave the children in the house alone."
Jack suddenly felt as if a spotlight had been turned on his bed and he had an audience of three women waiting for his performance. He knew how women loved to talk. "And your cousins knew you were coming over here to seduce me?" He waited, praying he'd misunderstood her and dreading hearing her answer at the same time.
"Well, yes," she replied hesitantly. "It was their idea."
Jack groaned, and buried his face in his hands. It was worse than he'd thought.
Alayna sat up. "And what is wrong with their plan? I thought it was rather clever, myself."
He opened his hands enough to get a look at her face to make sure that she was serious. "Clever? You think this is clever?"
Alayna flipped back the covers and flounced from the bed. She whirled, hands on hips. "Yes, clever," she snapped peevishly. She tossed out a hand, gesturing toward the house. "With three innocent children in my house, I couldn't very well invite you to spend the night with me. And I couldn't leave them alone, either." She folded her arms beneath her breasts. "This seemed the perfect solution."
Jack wished now that she had stayed in the bed, then maybe he wouldn't have noticed that she was wearing that blue robe of hers. The one that matched her eyes. And he wouldn't have gotten that peek of her breasts, either, when she'd flung out her arm, pointing toward the house. But with her standing right in front of the window with moonlight spilling over her form, he saw it all.
He covered his face with his hands again, groaning, then scraped his fingers up over his face and back through his hair. "The perfect solution for what?" he asked, striving for patience.
Tears flooded her eyes. "I wanted to make love with you again before you left, and I couldn't think of a way—"
Jack held up a hand, interrupting her. "Before I left? You knew I was leaving?"
She nodded.
Jack sighed, dropping his hand to the mattress, and his gaze there, as well. He rubbed the ball of his thumb across the cotton sheet. "I was going to tell you in the morning."
"You don't owe me an explanation. I—"
Jack held up his hand again, but this time he motioned her toward the bed.
Though she did so with reluctance, Alayna moved to the side of the bed. Jack stretched across the width of mattress that separated them and took her hand, drawing her down beside him. "Yes, I do," he said, wearily, staring at their joined hands. "I should have told you before now, but—well, I couldn't." He lifted his gaze to hers. "I have to go, Alayna. It's time for me to move on."
She nodded, tears clotting her throat. "I—I know."
Jack wagged
his head. "No, I don't think you do." He inhaled deeply, searching for the words. "I didn't want to care," he said slowly. "I thought I could just do my job without getting involved. But I couldn't." He firmed his lips and glanced back over his shoulder to the window and the house beyond. "Billy and Molly and then Meggie." He wagged his head again, then turned to stare at their hands. He laced his fingers through hers, unlaced them, then laced them again. Finally he lifted his head, squeezing her fingers between his. "It hurts, Alayna. And I don't want to hurt anymore."
Tears streaming down her cheeks, Alayna leaned over, smoothing a hand tenderly across his cheek. "I know, Jack. And I understand. I really do."
He raised a hand and closed it over hers, holding her palm against his cheek. "And it's just not the kids. I—well, I care for you, too."
A sob hitched in her chest and she unwound her fingers from his to press them against her lips.
"You deserve a man who can be a part of a family and I can't do that, Alayna. I wish I could, but I can't. I don't want any more children."
She moved her hand from her lips to his. "Shh," she whispered. "Don't say anything more." She moved her hands to frame his face. "I want to make love with you, Jack," she whispered. "One last time."
Searching his eyes, she drew closer, pressing her lips lightly against his. "Will you, Jack?" she asked, her breath warm and moist against his. "Will you make love with me?"
Jack drew her down beside him, matching her length to his. "Yes," he whispered, kicking the sheet from his legs. "God help me, but yes," he groaned and covered her mouth with his.
Alayna almost wept at the feel of his mouth on hers. The taste, the texture, the hunger with which he seemed to devour her. And when his hand found her breast, she sighed, giving herself over to the sensations he drew. She closed her eyes, determined to remember every detail. The width of his hand, the strength in it. Each and every callus that chafed against her bare skin.
And his lips when he suckled her. Gently at first, then drawing her more fully into his mouth, his tongue laving her nipple until she ached for more.
And more never seemed to be enough.
She framed his face with her hands, feeling the muscles of his jaw work, glorying in the sensations that flooded her body. He lifted his head to meet her gaze, then used his weight to push her onto her back, never once taking his eyes from hers.
He spoke not with words, but with his hands and with his eyes, telling her how precious she was to him. And Alayna knew his feelings, saw them in his eyes, felt them in every stroke of his fingers across her flesh. Never had she felt more loved than she had at that moment, never so blessed.
Kneeling beside her, he opened her robe fully, then sank back on his heels, moving his gaze to hers. "You are so beautiful," he whispered, laying a palm on her stomach. "So very, very beautiful." He leaned and pressed a kiss to her abdomen, then lifted his head to look at her. "I wish I could put a baby here," he whispered. "One of your very own for you to love."
Alayna felt the familiar tears swell, but this time there was no regret, no sense of inadequacy because she didn't have the ability to produce the child he wanted to gift her with. There was only a sense of joy that Jack cared enough to want to give her her dreams.
Reaching for him, she drew his face to hers and sighed her pleasure against his lips as he moved over her, matching his body to her length. She spread her legs, creating a nest for him, welcoming him in … then gasped when the heat of his arousal touched her feminine opening. She arched to meet him, taking him in, then followed him in a dance that had existed since the beginning of time.
She stroked his back with her hands, shaping each straining muscle, then moved her hands to his chest, seeking the beat of his heart, the warmth of his soul.
And when he dropped his chest against hers, she wrapped her arms around his neck and clung while he whispered in her ear, "Come with me, Alayna. Come with me now."
She closed her eyes and focused on his movements, feeling each ebb and flow of his body within her. The heat built to a blinding inferno and she knotted her fingers in his hair. She pressed her head back against the pillow, unable to bear the sensations that seemed to keep building and building within her, demanding release, and Jack pressed his lips to the smooth column of her throat. "Now," he growled against her fevered skin. "Now!" And he drove himself deeply inside her.
Alayna heard a guttural cry and was shocked when she realized that it was her own. Then she was falling, falling, faster and faster until her head spun with the dizzying sensation and her body felt as if it was no longer her own.
The explosion came simultaneously, a shower of blinding light that left her breathless and weak. She reached for Jack, certain that she had lost him in the fall, and felt a shudder rack his body. Then he collapsed, letting his full weight rest on her and she welcomed the pressure, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding him close.
She rubbed her cheek against his, loving the feel of his beard scraping her skin, then turned her lips to his ear. "I love you, Jack," she whispered. "I love you so much."
When he tensed, she clutched him tighter to her. "It's okay," she reassured him. "You don't have to love me, too."
Slowly Jack relaxed, grateful for her understanding. He rolled to his side, drawing her with him and molding her shape to his. He dipped his head to look into her eyes. What he found there filled him with peace. No condemnation, no regrets, just clear blue eyes that met his gaze openly and without a hint of remorse. He smiled softly, then tucked her head in the curve of his neck. With a sigh, he pressed his lips to the top of her head, then rested his chin there.
"Sleep with me, Alayna," he whispered and closed his eyes.
Jack awakened before dawn and rolled over, instinctively reaching for Alayna, as if he had done so every morning of his life.
But his hands found only cool sheets. He opened his eyes, then closed them with a groan when he confirmed that she wasn't there. He fisted his hands against the soft cotton. She was gone.
And soon he would be, too.
Jack checked the fastening on his camper that he had replaced over his truck's bed the night before, made sure it was secure, then headed for the driver's side of his truck. He opened the door, then paused, hooking an arm through the open window as he looked one last time in the direction of the house. Setting his jaw, he climbed into his truck and started the engine.
He shifted into drive and pressed down on the accelerator, and focused on the road ahead. He passed by the house and pushed his foot a little closer to the floorboard. By the time he reached the highway, he was all but flying.
Or was that running?
He shook his head and set his eyes on the white line marking the center of the highway. He'd chase the white line, he told himself, and see where it took him. And he wouldn't look back.
He didn't dare.
Alayna stepped onto the patio, and looked up at the morning sky. She closed her eyes and hugged her arms beneath her breasts, drawing in a deep breath. It's going to be a wonderful day, she promised herself.
Releasing the breath, she opened her eyes and looked out across the pond to the hills where the sun was showing off its morning colors.
He was gone. She knew without looking toward the cabin, or the barn, that Jack had already left. She sensed the loss before she turned and verified that his truck was missing.
She drew in a shuddery breath and pressed her hand against her heart. She wouldn't be sad, she told herself. He had left her with nothing but wonderful memories.
She turned for the house, and stumbled to a stop, her hand going again to her heart. There beside the back door stood the old harvest table, its oak patina glowing radiantly in the morning sun. Pressing her fingers against her lips, she crossed to it and laid a hand on the polished wood. She could almost feel the care that had gone into restoring it. The warmth of Jack's hand. The tenderness with which he had worked on the scarred wood.
She smoothed her hand across the
top, unashamed of the tears that dripped onto the surface and beaded there. He'd done this for her, she thought, feeling her heart swell, because he'd understood how much the old table had meant to her.
She couldn't help but wonder what she had meant to him.
Jack drove until his eyes burned and the register on the gas gauge was drifting on the wrong side of empty. Seeing a service station ahead, he whipped onto the asphalt deck and stopped beside the pump.
Climbing out of his truck, he pressed his hands to his back and stretched. He kicked out a leg as he rounded the hood, getting the blood flowing again. He'd been driving for a good five hours.
He slipped a credit card into the slot, punched in his selection, then pulled the nozzle from its anchor. Whistling to pass the time, he stuck the nozzle into his gas tank, and squeezed the lever. He turned his back to his truck, propped a foot against the tire while the gas pumped and looked around. The station was like a hundred others he'd stopped at during the six months he'd been on the run.
And now he was on the run again.
He ducked his head and fitted his thumb and finger over his eyes and rubbed. He wouldn't think about them, he told himself. He'd—
He jumped when he felt the truck rock against his back and turned to stare at it. He waited to see if it moved again. If it didn't, he was afraid he was losing his mind.
He almost laughed at that. Hell, he'd lost his mind a long time ago. That, and his heart.
But then he thought he caught a slight movement. Shutting off the gas, he shoved the nozzle back into its anchor, then moved quietly to the back of his truck. He stared at the camper door a moment, wondering what waited for him on the other side.
Frowning, he twisted the handle and jerked the door wide.
Billy sat on the floor of the camper, his eyes bugged wide. He gulped, then tried a shaky grin. "Hi, Jack."
That McCloud Woman Page 14
