Husband Hunting 101

by Rita Herron

  Zack held up his hand. "Whoa, don't go jumping to conclusions." He started jogging in place. "Level with me. How did you know, Mark?"

  Mark shrugged. "You won't laugh?"

  Zack shook his head.

  "Actually there were a lot of little things. I kept waking up, missing the way she smelled. And she likes to leave these silly little love notes around the house." A sheepish smile curved Mark's face. "And I actually liked it."

  Zack remembered how he felt when Jenna simply touched him. "But with Dad's history, weren't you afraid you'd wind up in divorce court like him?"

  Mark scoffed. "No, I decided a long time ago that I wanted the total opposite of what our parents had."

  Zack mulled over Mark's words. "But didn't you get nervous? Weren't you afraid you might be making a mistake?"

  "Of course I was nervous," Mark said. "But I knew it wasn't a mistake. Just think about the women Dad married, Zack. They were all too young for him, Dad had nothing in common with them. Those relationships were doomed from the start."

  Zack pumped his arms as they picked up speed again. "So, you think Dad chose the wrong women?"

  "Yep," Mark said. "He wasn't looking for long term commitment. He wanted a trophy wife, someone to show off, to stroke his ego, not a real companion."

  "Not someone to have dinner and watch movies with."

  "Exactly," Mark answered. They rounded the track for the sixth time and Mark stopped, his shirt soaked with sweat. "So, have you really found someone you're seriously interested in?"

  Zack ran in place for several seconds, then they walked the track to cool down. "I don't know, man. Sort of. But I have this strange reaction every time I think about committing to her." He shrugged. "My stomach hurts and I start to shake."

  Mark gave him a sympathetic look. "Listen, Zack, I know you were younger than me when our folks split, and I can see it's affected you. But if you've met someone you like, don't be afraid to give a relationship a try just because our old man screwed up. A good marriage is like having a best friend for life."

  Zack's stomach knotted.

  "Now, who is she?" Mark asked. "What kind of woman finally snagged you? Is she someone you met at a club, a singles bar, a topless dancer, who?"

  "It's Jenna," Zack said, his throat rough.

  "Jenna?" Mark's shorter height seemed to diminish as he squared his shoulders. "What the hell have you done, Zack?"

  Anger surged through Zack. "I haven't done anything, Mark."

  "Did you seduce her?"

  "That's none of your business," Zack said through gritted teeth.

  "The hell it's not. I warned you not to mess with her." He poked Zack in the chest. "I told you she was a nice girl and to leave her alone."

  "And I told you it's none of your business," Zack countered. "She doesn't need your protection, bro."

  Mark lowered his voice, his eyes questioning. "What happened?"

  "We've been working together," Zack snapped.

  "You know she has a hearing impairment?"

  "What difference does that make?"

  Mark shoved his hand through his dark curly hair. "It doesn't to me, but you've never stuck with any woman. How will you handle problems if they come up? "

  Zack glared at him. "You really think I'm that shallow?"

  "No. But Colleen cares a lot about Jenna, man." Mark's anger seemed to fade. "Just think long and hard about it, Zack. Her hearing loss was inherited. If she has kids, she might pass it on."

  Zack swallowed, remembering Jenna's abbreviated version of her childhood. A relationship was one thing, but marriage was yet another.

  And kids—he hadn't thought about the implications of having children. Children meant more responsibility, a lifetime commitment.

  Kids meant chewing gum on your shoes, dog poop on the lawn, a house, trading his sports car in for a mini-van, and dirty diapers. He could handle the house and the dog, but he staggered backwards at the idea of selling his Triumph.

  And the thought of messy diapers made him so dizzy he had to find a park bench and sit down.

  Chapter 8

  Jenna listened to the cheery Christmas music while she served hot cider and Christmas cookies to her customers, yet her heart wasn't in it.

  She'd decided to have an open house to mark the beginning of the holiday shopping season. But, in spite of the gaiety of the atmosphere and the constant ringing of the cash register, she was so depressed that she wanted to crawl into one of the big gift bags, yank the red and white tissue paper over her head, and hide.

  She'd always thought falling in love was supposed to be exhilarating, dreamy, leaving one aglow with happiness. But falling in love with the wrong man had brought her heartache that wouldn't go away, no matter how hard she tried to distract herself with holiday festivities.

  Maybe this soul-filled hurt was the reason Zack had sworn off love.

  He was the smart one. She'd jumped in without thinking and her heart felt like one of the crumbled leftover cookies on the tray.

  "Wow," Angel said, as the last customer left the store. "You're going to have to order more merchandise if business continues like this."

  Jenna nodded, remembering Zack's clever new slogan. "I can handle that. Hopefully, the new ads will increase foot traffic even more."

  She straightened an assortment of green and black velvet panties on the table as another customer left, then glanced around the interior of the boutique and noticed it had emptied. It was almost closing time and with a storm watch in effect, she didn't expect any more business. The wind had picked up outside, howling in the distance, adding to the miserable weather.

  Even the bouquet she'd saved and dried from Casey's wedding looked forlorn as if it had been wasted on her.

  "The weatherman predicts it's going to start sleeting soon," Angel said. "You mind if I take off?"

  "Of course not. You should get off your feet anyway."

  "They are starting to swell," Angel said, pointing to her ankles.

  "Then go." Jenna fanned her toward the door. "If the weather's getting bad, I'm going to close up and leave early, too." I'm not in the mood for class.

  Angel grabbed her purse and left, and Jenna shivered at the silence that followed. Refusing to give into her melancholy feelings, she punched in another tape and restacked a display group of gift books featuring solutions to romantic problems—How to Kiss Your Lover and 101 Ways to Say I Love You. Too bad there wasn't a manual on how to make a guy fall in love with you and believe in marriage.

  The doorbell tinkled and she glanced up, expecting to see another customer, but the unattainable man of her dreams stood in the doorway, brushing a stray leaf from his windswept dark blond hair, his gaze meeting hers with an awkwardness that only confirmed his commitment to bachelorhood.

  "Hi," he said, his sexy lips forming a hesitant smile.

  "Hi, yourself."

  He scanned the store, his gaze settling on the half-dozen scented candles burning in the windows and the bucket of champagne and crystal glasses in the center of the front table. "It looks nice in here."

  "I held an open house to jump start the Christmas season."

  "Were you busy?"

  She nodded and straightened the wrapping paper station. "Yeah, but with the weather turning cold, people will be heading home for the night."

  He strode toward her, then opened his portfolio and removed his sketchpad. He'd created several finished drawings including the new slogan, It's What's Underneath That Counts, in soft italics.

  "This is wonderful, Zack. They're perfect." Jenna studied each sketch, then glanced up at him as their fingers brushed. She was suddenly riveted by the double meaning of the slogan. "For someone deadset against romance, you certainly designed a romantic package."

  "I said I was against marriage, not romance," he said softly. When she frowned, he continued, "But I told you, it's easy with you."

  She met his heated gaze. "You mean with the merchandise."

  His eyes w
idened slightly as if he'd just realized his choice words. Then he smiled and the candlelight caught the golden flecks of his brown eyes.

  She averted her gaze, fighting off her wayward, lustful thoughts and picked up the champagne. "Let's have a toast to close the deal." And to say good-bye, she thought, realizing now that the job was drawing to a close, she wouldn't have any reason to see Zack.

  Or any excuse.

  He gestured toward the bottle. "I thought that was just for show."

  She handed him the bottle. "No, I served it to the customers. Pour us a glass while I close up."

  He took the bottle and did as she said while she locked up and pulled the shades, bathing the store interior in the dim candlelight. A light sleet had started to fall, gently slashing against the window- panes.

  His strong masculine scent wafted toward her, erasing the feminine scents in the room, as he handed her a crystal flute. Jenna tried to focus on the bubbles in the glass, but she was mesmerized by Zack's broad shoulders and the way his shirt stretched across his taut corded muscles. She raised her glass for a toast. "Here's to a wonderful union."

  He clinked his glass with hers, then leaned toward her, a teasing gleam in his eyes. "I assume you're referring to our business deal."

  Heat climbed Jenna's neck. No, she wasn't simply referring to their business arrangement.

  She wanted a union of their bodies, their minds, their hearts, their souls. She wanted to make love with Zack, wanted to take him inside her and show him how deep her love ran.

  He might not want a commitment, he might move on to another woman and break her heart, but she didn't want to go through life without experiencing what she knew would be the most erotic, sensual experience she would ever have.And call her crazy, but she ached to give him the unconditional love he'd obviously never had, didn't even know existed.

  Because she knew in her heart she would never love another man the way she loved Zack.

  Zack sipped his champagne, every inch between him and Jenna an excruciating reminder of the distance that would soon be permanent. The store had always looked enticing, but tonight with the lacy lingerie surrounding him, candles flickering softly in the darkness, and the wind howling outside, the atmosphere was so sultry he felt hypnotized—and lulled into believing that magic existed, that love really could bond two people together.

  The doubts that had troubled him all day vanished at the sight of the heat in Jenna's gaze. Her eyes brimmed with want and hunger and something else... sadness. He'd seen it flicker there for a brief second before she'd hidden it.

  Was she sad that their business relationship was coming to an end? Would she miss him the way he was already missing her?

  "Zack, I really appreciate all the time and effort you put into the job."

  "It was my pleasure." He rubbed his thumb around the stem of his glass.

  She moved closer to him, the silky fabric of her slinky red dress swishing around her legs, her movements graceful as if she were dancing in the wind. Then she reached out and touched his cheek. Her finger stroked his jaw, then softly caressed his lips, the scent of roses and desire swirling around them. He kissed her fingertip, awed by the stark passion radiating from her expressive eyes. Soft guitar music echoed in the background, but the words were drowned out by the sound of his roaring heart.

  "I want to be with you tonight, Zack."

  He froze, her words seeping into the haze of desire engulfing him. "Jenna?"

  "Shh." She pressed her finger to his lips, silencing him, then stood on tiptoe and nuzzled her face against his cheek. "Tonight, just for tonight," she whispered.

  His hands slid around her of their own accord, his pulse racing.

  "No strings. No pressure. Just the two of us, loving each other all through the night."

  He swallowed, his hands trembling as he pulled her back and gazed into her eyes. God, he wanted to tell her the words she wanted to hear, that he loved her, that he wanted to hold her until the moon disappeared into eternity, that he wanted to make babies with her and grow old and have grandchildren together, that he believed love would be enough, but his throat felt gritty and his vocal cords snapped tight. "Jenna, I want you, but..."

  "No buts," she whispered, brushing her lips over his jaw. "No promises, no expectations."

  He cupped her face in his hands, wanting to crush her to him and never release her. "Are you sure?" he asked in a husky whisper.

  She nodded, her lashes fluttering down seductively. He drew her mouth to his, and felt her pulse beating erratically at the base of her throat as she sank into his arms. Raw desire surged through him, and he drank greedily, nibbling at her lips and expressing his feelings the only way he knew how—with his hands, with his mouth, with his body.

  She seemed just as frantic to touch him, and ripped at his clothes. He groaned as her palms raked across his bare skin, then he threaded his fingers through her hair, gently urging her head back so he could explore the soft skin beneath her chin, behind her ears, down her neck.

  He untied the silky sash at her waist and discovered the thread of material had been the only thing holding the wraparound dress together. The fabric slithered to the floor in a whisper of red, then she stood before him wearing the daintiest, thinnest, most erotic pair of red panties he'd ever seen.

  They arched up her slender legs and dipped below her navel, drawing his eyes to her smooth, flat abdomen, then lower to the sheer fabric that covered her heat. With his breath tight in his chest, he slowly let his gaze rise to her breasts, and he exhaled. There were no words to express how beautiful she looked with the candlelight flickering across her voluptuous body.

  "You're staring," she said with a small self-conscious smile.

  "You take my breath away." The alluring smile she gave him brought his senses screaming from below his waist, and he slowly slid the strap of her red bra down her shoulder, reveling in the tiny gasps and moans she elicited when his lips brushed her skin.

  He tasted roses and sweetness, and something far too emotional to even label, something hot and sensual that would always make him think of Jenna.

  Then he teased and trailed kisses down her breasts, slipping off the scrap of lace to reveal rosy pink nipples that were straining toward him. Jenna moaned, and he laved her nipples with his tongue and fingers, gently massaging her breasts as he lifted them to his mouth. A groan erupted from deep in his throat at the exquisite feel of her flesh against his lips.

  She clutched at his arms, dug her fingernails into his back, then tore off his shirt, as if she needed bare skin against skin. She plundered his mouth with her tongue, and when her soft, lush breasts caressed the hard wall of his chest, he moaned again, a flash of heat spiraling through him.

  He cupped her bottom and pulled her against him, inhaling the spicy scent of her lust. Then she pushed his jeans down his hips, stripping him of his briefs, and he fought to slow his hormones from overload. She closed her fingers around his erection, then whispered words of longing to him as he swelled in her hand. He closed his eyes in ecstasy, knowing he'd been given a brief glimpse of heaven.

  Desperate for more, he cupped her bottom and she arched into him, silently begging for more. His body quivered, teetering on the verge of exploding from the excitement building in his loins. Gently easing her hands back to his waist, he searched for a place for them to lie down.

  "The pillows," she whispered, nodding toward an ensemble of red and white lacy throw-pillows scattered on the floor beside the Christmas tree.

  Joy to the World, was printed on a needlepoint design. If his body hadn't been coiled with unleashed passion, he would have laughed at the irony.

  They quickly spread one of the holiday afghans over the floor and he lay down beside her, stunned at the intensity of the passion flaring in her eyes, and even more awed by the emotions surging in his chest. She was beautiful, so tender and giving, that he had to battle his instinct to throw her down and pound himself inside her.

  "I've never cr
aved a man the way I do you," Jenna whispered as he rose above her.

  "And I want to sink so deep inside you, you won't be able to breathe from the pleasure," Zack murmured, biting at her neck.

  He stroked her arms, her waist, her breasts again, then lowered his head and kissed a trail down her stomach, burying his face in the soft, sensitive skin of her inner thighs.

  Jenna moaned, whispering his name in a heartfelt plea that caused his lungs to squeeze in his chest. He gently removed the lacy barrier between them and glanced up to see her watching him, her eyes dazed with hunger, her lips parted slightly, her nipples a dusky rose in the dim light.

  Then he lowered his head and kissed her with all the tenderness he had inside him, all the pent-up desire he'd been suppressing for weeks, all the emotions he'd never allowed himself to feel with another woman.

  She melted into him and whimpered, her hands urging him to rise above her, but he prolonged the pleasant agony, tangling his fingers in the soft dewy curls surrounding her femininity. His body blazed with heat as he realized she was wet for him.

  He plunged one finger inside her and she gasped, the soft little moans escaping her driving him into a frenzy. He rose above her, aching and hard, then held himself over her, bracing himself on his elbows so he could look into her eyes.

  A sultry look darkened her face, and ecstasy heated his blood as he lowered his body over hers. She kissed him thoroughly, ravaging his mouth as he pushed himself inside her for the first time.

  The heady sensation of her warm body accepting his sent a thrill up his spine, and he withdrew, then plunged inside her again, deeper, filling her. He stroked her inner fires, sucking and nibbling at her neck and breasts until she cried out for more, until she begged for him to drive himself deeper within her. He clenched his jaw, striving for control, desperately wanting to sate her before he spent his own passion.

  He took her hot and hard and fast, his breath a mere pant in the dark room, her eyes shimmering with passion, glowing with reckless abandon as she rose and met him, thrust for thrust. Her nails dug into his back, her breath was hot and rasping. She urged him deeper still, and he pulled her legs up around his waist, driving himself so far inside her, he was sure he was lost forever.