She gestured to the chair in front of it.
With a fluid motion, as if straddling a bike, Jeff flung his leg across the chair, sat and inserted the CD in the disk drive. His long, capable fingers flew across the keyboard, and commands and information scrolled across the monitor.
But Jodie wasn’t watching the screen. She couldn’t tear her gaze from the back of his neck and the tantalizing strip of tanned skin visible between his collar and hairline. To break the spell, she stumbled backward and sat on the bed. God help her, she was losing her mind. She had to get this man out of her bedroom before she did something she’d regret in the morning. Only the presence of Brittany next door kept Jodie from flinging herself at Jeff.
She inhaled a deep, calming breath. “Finished?”
“Almost.” The clatter of keys and Jeff’s steady breathing filled the silence. “Got it.”
He stood, reached for her hand and tugged her into the chair he’d vacated. “Your turn.”
Bending over her with his arms around her to guide her hands over the keys, his cheek next to hers as he studied the screen, and his warm breath, fragrant with vanilla from the ice cream, mingling with hers, he took her through the steps of the business records program.
He might as well have been speaking Swahili.
“See,” he said when he’d finished. “Easy as falling off a log.”
“Right,” she lied. She’d fallen all right. Fallen hard. She stood quickly, only to find her nose against his broad chest. Caught in a tender trap between him and the desk chair, she couldn’t move. In another second he’d have her in his arms.
Her brain kicked in, and she sidled around him and almost ran out of the bedroom up the hall to the front room. She grabbed Jeff’s windbreaker and thrust it toward him when he followed her.
“Thanks for the software. And the demonstration,” she said, as breathless as if she’d climbed Devil’s Mountain in a sprint. “I should get to work on the program right away, before I forget.”
He shrugged into his jacket. “No problem. Walk me to the front door?”
“Sure.” She had to lock up after him, anyway. And the sooner he left, the better. She clattered down the stairs, not waiting to see if he followed.
Before she reached the double doors of the café, two strong hands grasped her shoulders and turned her to face him. Although the room was dark, she could read his expression in the glow from the streetlights that filtered through the display windows. His smile had disappeared, replaced by a seriousness that shook her.
“Jodie.” He breathed her name like a prayer.
Gazing into the depths of eyes the color of a mountain sky just before dawn, she couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. All her awareness centered on the heat generated by his hands on her shoulders, burning through the thin fabric of her shirt.
“I want to kiss you,” he said. “But not if you don’t want me to.”
She closed her eyes against the naked desire in his. He’d kissed her once before, and that brief contact had fired her blood, fueled her imagination, and made her lie awake at night, longing for him. Another kiss would only feed her burgeoning feelings for him. She didn’t want to love Jeff. She’d messed up her life once before with a mere infatuation. What kind of damage would real love do?
“All you have to do is say no,” he prompted with a caressing gentleness in his voice that undid all her best intentions.
She opened her eyes and met his gaze. “No.”
He instantly dropped his hands from her shoulders with a sigh that wrenched her heart.
“No,” she repeated. “I can’t say no. I’d be lying if I did.”
With a swiftness that took her breath away, he caught her in his arms, lifted her from the floor and backed her against the wall beside the door. Molding his body to hers with an intimacy that shot currents of desire from her head to toes, he claimed her mouth with his. Unable to stop herself, she wrapped her arms around his neck and wound her fingers through his hair.
Her universe contracted until only the two of them existed, and she couldn’t tell where she ended and he began. With lips parted, tongues mingling and his heart pounding against her own, she reveled in the sensation of oneness, a contradiction of peacefulness and tumult, security and danger.
Another impression, the hardness in his groin pressed against her, brought her to her senses. She broke away, drew a gasping breath and straightened her clothes with trembling hands.
He placed a hand on the wall on either side of her, forming a solid male cocoon. “Kissing you gives a whole new meaning to shock and awe.”
She didn’t dare look at him, afraid she’d kiss him again.
With gentle fingers, he tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear. “You okay?” he asked.
Afraid to trust her voice, she nodded.
“Sorry you didn’t say no?”
“I’m...not sure.” God, she sounded like a teenager. But why not? She’d been acting like an adolescent whose hormones had run amok. She finally found the courage to raise her eyes to meet his gaze.
His amazing eyes twinkled in the dim light. “Guess you’ll need more chances to make up your mind.”
“I don’t—”
He placed his fingers against her lips, stopping her words and sending her thoughts spiraling again. “No need to decide now. We’ll take things one step at a time. Just promise you’ll make the poker run with me a week from Saturday.”
“I shouldn’t—”
“But you will.”
“Yes.” After what they’d just shared, how could she refuse?
“I’m going to be pretty busy at the farm for a while,” he explained.
“I understand.”
“But I’ll stay in touch.”
She nodded. “Thank you. For the ice cream, the flowers, the software. You didn’t have to—”
He cupped her face in his hands. “I wanted to.”
She covered his hands with her own. “So did I.”
The corresponding heat in his glance indicated he knew she referred to their kiss.
He brushed her lips lightly with his own and then opened the door. She waited until he’d mounted his cycle and roared away before locking the café and turning toward the stairs.
Brittany stood silhouetted on the top step in the light from the apartment. Jodie wondered how much her daughter had seen and heard.
When Brittany quickly disappeared and her bedroom door slammed shut, Jodie had her answer.
Chapter Nine
Jeff stared at the grant application on his computer screen but didn’t see the words. Instead he pictured the luminescence of Jodie’s face, her huge eyes shining like stars in the streetlight’s glow after he’d kissed her three nights ago, an image that had occupied every waking hour since then.
Usually the spartan sanctuary of his farmhouse office with its bare floor of broad oak planks, battered pine desk and comfortable overstuffed furniture soothed his mind. Often after a contentious encounter with one of the teens, he’d withdraw to the room’s quiet solitude to relax. But today he was wound tighter than an eight-day clock, and the familiar surroundings refused to work their usual magic. He shoved back from his desk, rose from his chair and paced.
He hadn’t expected to feel this way about Jodie, hadn’t intended to become so involved. With sixteen hellions to tame, a staff to supervise and a farm to run, he didn’t have time for a personal life. He’d thought he would simply pass a day of R&R now and then with Jodie, but he’d been unprepared for her effect on him. She consumed his thoughts from dawn to dusk, and at night she filled his dreams. And his obsession was more than physical longing, although, heaven knew, he suffered that in spades. Rehabilitating teenage offenders was no longer enough. He wanted to share that goal and every aspect of his life with the pert, pretty, gutsy woman who had stolen his heart.
And he could think of a dozen good reasons why that wasn’t going to happen.
“Taking your morning hike inside?” Gofer st
ood in the doorway, arms folded across his chest, his shoulder propped against the door frame.
Jeff hadn’t heard his friend approach and gathered that he’d been watching awhile. Jeff halted, tossed Gofer a wry smile and pushed his fingers through his hair. “Remember what Arch taught us?”
“Arch taught us a lot of things.”
Jeff rotated his desk chair to face the door and plopped into it. “The most important thing, he always said, was staying focused on the mission.”
Gofer nodded. “He said focus was the only way to get the job done and come home alive.”
“Never lose your focus,” Jeff repeated.
“And your point is?” Gofer entered the room and straddled a chair opposite Jeff.
“I’ve lost my focus.”
Gofer studied him a moment in silence. “Jodie Nathan?”
Jeff nodded. “I can’t stop thinking about her. Even when I don’t see her for days at a time.”
“And that’s bad?”
Jeff jumped to his feet and started pacing again. At this rate he’d wear a rut in the broad plank floor. “Archer Farm is my mission. And I can’t focus on it because of her.”
Gofer leaned back in his chair and followed Jeff’s back-and-forth passage with his eyes. “This isn’t combat.”
“What?” Jeff turned and stared at his friend.
“The advice Arch gave us was for life-and-death situations. Like it or not, you’re a civilian now. You’re entitled to a real life.”
Jeff gestured toward the dorm. “But these boys—”
“Need every minute we can give them, true. But if each man on the staff takes some personal time now and then, Archer Farm will still succeed. In fact, it will do better if the team doesn’t work 24/7 and suffer burnout.” Gofer leaned forward and clasped his hands between his knees. “We’re no longer in combat, lieutenant, although it may feel that way at times,” he added with a grin.
Jeff knew what Gofer was referring to. They’d needed three staff members to break up a fight between two of the newest arrivals last night. Kermit had suffered a split lip and Ricochet a nasty punch to the groin.
“I’m not talking about R&R now and then,” Jeff admitted. “I’m thinking about commitment, about being with Jodie for the long haul.”
Gofer’s expression showed no surprise. “And Brittany, too?”
“Like you said before, Jodie and Brit are a package. I’d adopt Brittany, if she wanted.” Only after he’d spoken the words did Jeff realize how far his dreams had gone. He loved Jodie, and he could give Brittany the father she’d never had by being the father he’d never had. The prospect had its appeal. And a thousand obstacles. “But the whole idea’s insane.”
“Insanity’s my specialty,” Gofer said. “Tell me more.”
Jeff stopped midstride and propped a hip on top of his desk. “I can’t be a good husband—and father—and run Archer Farm, too.”
“Why not?”
“The Marines trained me well,” Jeff admitted, “but not for family life, and not for being in two places at once.”
Gofer’s forehead wrinkled in thought. “Have you ever considered how having a real family living at Archer Farm might be a good example for our teens?”
Jeff snorted. “Jodie live here? Not a chance.”
“You’ve asked her?”
He shook his head. “She has a business to run and a daughter she doesn’t want within ten miles of this place. It would never work.”
“Okay.” Gofer stood and dusted his hands. “Then just forget it. Forget her.”
“That’s easy for you to say.”
“Yeah, it is. I’m not in love with her.”
Jeff scowled. “Is this how you counsel our boys?”
“Pretty much.”
“Tell them to forget whatever problem they have?”
Gofer shrugged. “If they’re unwilling to do anything about the problem, what other solution is there?”
Gofer was baiting him, but Jeff wouldn’t bite. “They teach you that in shrink school?”
“I practice nondirective counseling. The client explores his problem and comes up with his own solutions. Much more effective than being told what to do. We humans are stubborn creatures. We don’t like following orders.”
“Odd thing for a Marine to say.”
“Odd but true. That’s why the military has boot camps, to drill that natural resistance out of you.” Gofer walked over and clapped him on the shoulder. “Your situation is far from hopeless. There’s a compromise between Archer Farm and your personal life out there somewhere. Just keep looking till you find it.”
Jeff grimaced. “Or forget it.”
“My words exactly.” Gofer headed for the door. “Meanwhile, Trace has fried chicken and corn on the cob for dinner. Good chow always makes you feel better.”
Jeff took in a deep breath, blew it out hard and followed Gofer out the door.
* * *
IN THE FADING SUMMER TWILIGHT, Jodie sat with Brynn and Merrilee on the deck behind Grant and Merrilee’s home outside of town, a log cabin Grant had renovated during Merrilee’s years in New York. On the pond behind the house, mist trailed like a windblown scarf above the dark, placid waters. A chorus of cicadas chirped raucously among the distant trees, and, closer to the house, lightning bugs, their phosphorescent bodies winking like tiny stars, flitted through the tall, fragrant meadow grasses.
Contemplating the peaceful scene, Jodie welcomed a loosening of the tension that had been her constant companion lately. Tension caused mainly by her stand-off with Brittany. She’d tried to talk to her daughter after Brit had witnessed her kissing Jeff, but Brittany had refused to listen, hadn’t wanted to spend more than a minute in the same room with her since that night. This evening Jodie was experiencing the company of people who not only listened, but responded as well, for a change.
Grant had been called to the Bickerstaff farm to treat a sick cow, and Jodie and Brynn were enjoying their first visit with Merrilee since her wedding.
“I couldn’t believe it when Mrs. Bickerstaff called for Grant.” Merrilee filled glasses with chilled white wine and handed them to Brynn and Jodie. “I thought she’d died years ago. She has to be pushing one hundred, and she’s running that farm by herself.”
“Joe Mauney and his son help out,” Jodie said, “but, still, she’s an amazing woman.”
“Mom says Eileen Bickerstaff’s lived at the farm alone since World War II,” Merrilee said. “I can’t imagine how lonely she must be.”
“Forget Mrs. Bickerstaff,” Brynn said. “Tell us all about the honeymoon.”
Merrilee blushed a deep pink. “Longboat Key was gorgeous. Tropical, exotic, miles of white sand beaches.”
Jodie had never been to Florida’s west coast, only Orlando and Disney World. “You must have taken tons of pictures.”
“I have two great shots of Grant,” Merrilee said with obvious enthusiasm, “one of him petting a dolphin at the Mote Marine Laboratory and another with a flock of injured pelicans at the Suncoast Seabird Sanctuary. I can use them both in my book.”
Merrilee glowed with happiness, and Jodie was delighted for her childhood friend. Finishing up her book of photographs of the life of a country vet, which she’d already sold on proposal, and now married to Grant, whom she’d had a crush on since middle school, why shouldn’t Merrilee be happy?
Unlike Jodie, whose formerly simple but contented life had become a tangle of emotions and conflicts. Only marginally aware of Merrilee’s description of Florida’s beaches, restaurants and shops, Jodie sipped her wine and remembered the taste of Jeff’s last kiss.
A kiss that had resulted in the silent treatment Brittany had given her this past week, in spite of Jodie’s best efforts to communicate.
Yesterday Gofer had called to ask if Jodie could bring Daniel home, explaining that none of the staff could get away to pick him up. She had agreed, and Brittany and Daniel had chattered constantly on the trip through the valley.
But Brittany hadn’t said a word directly to her mother during the entire drive.
When Jodie had pulled into the parking place in front of the farmhouse, she’d intended to drop off Daniel and leave immediately. But the kid had shot her his eager puppy dog look. “Please, Ms. Nathan, can I show Brittany the garden we planted? It’s awesome.”
For the first time since leaving town, Brittany looked at her, a silent plea in her green eyes. As tight as the two teenagers had become, Daniel could have offered to show Brittany dirt, and her daughter would have jumped with excitement. With Brit already angry over her mother’s involvement with Jeff, Jodie couldn’t say no and alienate her further.
“Go ahead,” Jodie said, “but only fifteen minutes.”
Brittany was out of the car before Jodie finished speaking. Jodie rolled down the van windows and tried to relax behind the wheel while she waited. Her gaze swept the property and picked out a dozen teenagers, all wearing the farm’s summer uniform of cargo shorts and olive-drab T-shirts. Gone were the hip-hop clothes and do-rags. Also gone was most of their hair. Every kid, like Daniel, sported a Marine-style buzz cut. Gone, too, was their metal porcupine look with not a piece of jewelry in sight.
Also missing were the slouched postures and sullen expressions. Each boy was working, and seemed to be enjoying it.
Jodie couldn’t help being impressed. The staff had worked wonders on the terrifying yet miserable teenagers who had stumbled off the bus less than a week ago. Her gaze traveled to the farmhouse, and her heart stopped. Jeff sat on the steps next to a boy built like a meat locker. Big as he already was, the teen’s huge hands and feet indicated he had more growing in store. With an earnest look, the boy talked to Jeff, who never took his eyes off the teen’s face. The pair were so engrossed in conversation, Jodie doubted Jeff knew she was there, which was just as well. As soon as Brittany returned, Jodie could leave without speaking.
Not speaking to Jeff worked for her on two levels. First, she wouldn’t further antagonize Brittany, who was already bent out of shape over her mother’s relationship with the handsome Marine, and second, Jodie would avoid another encounter that would only fan the flames she was hoping to extinguish.
One Good Man Page 11
