Hard loving man
Page 14
“ ’Night, Dad,” Jason murmured with a yawn.
Kelley’s heart contracted and expanded. Tears stung her eyes. Of all the things she’d expected of Jack, such fatherly devotion had never been one of them. She’d hoped he’d be a good father, but she’d never truly expected it of him because of the harsh upbringing he’d obviously had. But he’d risen above it.
Jack turned off the lamp and joined Kelley in the hallway. “Want a drink while you’re waiting?”
“Yeah,” was all she could manage to say.
A corner of his mouth hitched up. He reached into the bedroom, grabbed the door handle, and pulled it closed. “So we won’t disturb him,” he offered.
She wasn’t certain how they would disturb him if all they were going to do was some quiet talking.
“What do you think of the place?” he asked as he led her into the kitchen and switched on the light.
Homier than she’d expected it to be. The refrigerator was covered with pictures obviously drawn by a child, held in place with magnets that touted “What I did in school today” or were souvenirs from various vacation spots or outings. A large bulletin board on one wall displayed other schoolwork, reminders about PTA meetings and other school functions, a list of important phone numbers. Jason was obviously the center of Jack’s world.
She could see in his eyes that her answer mattered to him, but she didn’t know how to sum up everything she was seeing, all she was feeling. “It’s a very male house,” she said. “But there’s a lot of love here.”
He opened the refrigerator. “Beer okay?”
“It’ll be fine. Madison will be the designated driver.”
He uncapped a bottle and handed it to her. “Overall, the house doesn’t have all the little frilly gewgaws that women like.”
She grinned. “I think the picture in the dining room of the dogs playing poker is very classy.”
He grimaced. “Serena gave me a hard time about that one.”
“You two seem very close,” she said. The depth of their friendship was obvious. Although she’d sensed that Serena had been surprised by her presence, she hadn’t thought the woman felt threatened.
“We’ve been through a lot together,” Jack said. “Let’s go sit in the living room.”
She wasn’t quite in the mood to sit—not just yet. She wandered around the room, looking at photos in a haphazard assortment of frames. None of the frames matched, leaving her with the impression that he cared more about displaying the photo than having any sort of decorative scheme. Jason was the center of every picture: alone, with Riker, sometimes with Jack. Always smiling, always happy. What a legacy to hand down to a child, a legacy she wasn’t giving Madison.
She felt Jack come up behind her.
“I’ve never been good with the photo album thing,” he said quietly. “Don’t have the patience for it, so we always pick a favorite out of the roll and frame it, stick it on the shelf.”
“I like it. It’s…real. It’s so obvious that you enjoy being together.” She turned to face him. “That’s a wonderful gift to your son, Jack. I don’t know if you realize that.”
“It’s mutual. He’s a great kid.” He tugged on her hand. “Now, come on, come sit down.”
She joined him on the couch, took one sip of the beer, decided she wasn’t really in the mood for it, and set her bottle aside.
“Not thirsty?” he asked.
“Not really. I was just being polite.” She shifted on the couch until she was facing him. “I enjoyed tonight, Jack.”
“I liked having you with us,” he said quietly, running his hand along her arm, threading his fingers through hers, and bringing her hand to his lips.
She felt the dew of his heated breath against her skin. “I’m scared, Jack.”
Stilling, he held her gaze. “Of what?”
“Nine years ago, we were both incredibly young. I didn’t feel young then, but looking back from where I now stand, I can see that I was remarkably…innocent, naive. Although neither of those descriptions is exactly right. I was just young.
“When I heard that you’d gotten Stephanie pregnant—” She pulled her hand free of his and balled it against her stomach. “You’d told me you loved me, Jack. And then you turned around that very night and took her to bed. It hurt so damn much.”
“I’d bared my heart, and you told me that you didn’t want to hear it, because you were my god-damned teacher. ‘Don’t say that, Jack,’ you said. ‘I don’t want to hear that. You shouldn’t be saying that.’ ”
She remembered her words all too clearly. The elation of knowing he loved her, the anxiety because she knew he should never have had the opportunity to fall in love with her. Her emotions had been in turmoil, her culpability in question, her shame intensified, because she’d become involved in his struggles, couldn’t turn her back on him when his mother had, and had unwittingly led him on—a student. She’d allowed a relationship to develop. No matter how unrequited it might have been, the potential for harm was there.
So she’d turned him away in the darkened stairwell that night, turned him away and straight into Stephanie’s arms.
“I wanted to be with you. We were six weeks from graduation. I didn’t think it mattered.”
“But it did matter, Jack. You were still my student.”
“I’ll concede, now that I’m older and have a few years behind me, that you were right. But when I was nineteen, I got angry. I was hurt. I didn’t understand. Stephanie was mad, too. She’d had a fight with her old man. So we were two frustrated kids, parked out by the creek…one thing led to another. Regardless of my reasons, regardless of the final outcome of my marriage to Stephanie, on prom night, when temptation came knocking, I opened the door.” He trailed his finger along her chin. “Maybe I did it because I did want to hurt you.”
“Well, you succeeded.”
“And I’m sorry as hell that I did, but I’m not the same guy that I was that night.”
“Don’t you think I can see that? But neither am I the same girl who opened the door. You’re projecting what you experienced back then onto the present: the excitement, attraction—”
“Are you saying there’s no attraction on your end?”
“No, I’ll admit there’s plenty of attraction. But you’re not going to get into my pants as easily this time.”
“It wasn’t easy before. You made me graduate from high school, for God’s sake.”
Reaching out, she combed her fingers through his hair. He’d jumped through every hoop she’d put before him. He’d grumbled enough while doing it, but still he’d done it.
“Jack, before you, there was someone else. I got hurt badly. It was a long time before I was willing to trust again, and when I did—”
“You trusted me, and I hurt you.”
She nodded.
He slid his hand around, cupping the nape of her neck.
“So, tell me,” he said in a low voice. “What do I have to do to make you forgive me?”
He pressed his mouth against hers, not with the heat that had always accompanied his kisses but with a tenderness that spoke of remorse, opportunities missed, roads not traveled.
The confident, demanding man—she could hold him at bay. But the man revealing his vulnerabilities, who tucked his son in beneath Spider-Man sheets, who expressed regret for the pain he’d caused her…that man was close to being irresistible.
He ended the kiss and placed his forehead against hers. “Any chance you’ll forgive me?”
She nodded.
“Anytime soon?”
Leaning back, she held his gaze and nodded. “I think we both made mistakes.”
She heard a horn honk. For once, Madison obeyed her, and Kelley wouldn’t have minded if she hadn’t arrived exactly on time. “There’s my ride.”
“Bad timing.”
It always was with them.
He stood and pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close until they were
hip to hip.
“I want to see you again. What are you doing tomorrow?” he asked.
“The girls and I are going to Houston for lunch, to do a little shopping. Then we’re taking Ronda to the airport.”
“Come by afterward. I’ll grill steaks for you and Madison.”
Rising up on her toes, she kissed him quickly before easing out of his hold. “We’ll see you tomorrow evening.”
She hurried outside to where Madison was waiting for her. Seeing more of Jack was probably a bad idea…or just maybe it would be the best decision she’d ever made.
Chapter 13
Jack thrived on recipes that involved quick and easy food preparation. As a rule, he didn’t go into desserts much, but for some strange reason, he wanted to offer his guests more than a steak and a baked potato. He had two recipes that required nothing more than dumping items into a bowl and stirring: a seven-fruit salad that went right into the fridge and brown-sugar brownies that went right into the oven.
“So how come Hamilton isn’t making the extras like she usually does when you cook steaks?” Jason asked as he rinsed and put the spoons used for stirring the brownie mix into the dishwasher.
“Because I didn’t think it would be right,” Jack explained. Opening the oven door, he peeked inside. He never could remember how long to cook the brownies. The recipe said twenty minutes, but they were always still gooey after that length of time. He added time in ten-minute increments until the knife he inserted in the center came out clean. He’d already gone into at least two overtimes. Wouldn’t be much longer. Someday, he was going to remember to keep track of exactly how long they baked.
“How come?” Jason said.
Closing the door, Jack straightened and faced Jason. “You remember the lady you met last night at the fair? Spencer? I invited her and her sister to join us. Since they’re my guests, I felt like I should prepare everything.”
“How come you invited them?”
Had his son suddenly reverted into an inquisitive three-year-old? Jack’s patience had been tested back then when Jason’s favorite word had been why.
“She’s my friend.”
Jason closed the door to the dishwasher and leaned against the counter with a stance that mimicked Jack’s usual kitchen pose. “You know what me and Riker were thinking?”
“Riker and I,” Jack automatically corrected.
“Right. Riker and I. We were thinking you should marry his mom.”
Jack knew a part of him should have seen this coming, but he still felt as though he’d been blindsided by a freight train. “Jason—”
“Dad, it’s perfect,” Jason interrupted, stepping closer, earnestness in his face. “I mean, I could start calling her Mom, and Riker could call you Dad. We do everything together anyway, so we’re really like a family. We just live in two houses.”
Jack shook his head. “Son, Hamilton and I are friends.”
“Which makes it even better. That means you like each other. Shouldn’t you marry someone you like? Someone you’re friends with? I mean, you wouldn’t want to marry your enemy.”
Jack rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ease the tension that was suddenly knotting his muscles. “Jason, when a man marries a woman, he needs to feel something more than friendship.”
“I know. You gotta love her. Don’t you love Hamilton? I mean, you always give her something nice at Christmas and take her out for her birthday and change the oil in her car and fix her stuff that breaks. I love her. And Riker loves you.”
Shit. How could he explain the reasons he and Serena would not work as a married couple?
“I do love her and Riker. But for a marriage to work, there has to be a little bit more to it than that.”
“Like what?”
“It’s hard to explain—”
“Sex?”
So there it was. Hanging out there, so to speak. He wasn’t surprised Jason had said the word so casually. It was discussed on almost every television show Jason watched. It was alluded to in commercials. Still, Jack hadn’t expected his son to draw the correct conclusion for Jack’s hesitancy to marry the lady next door.
“Yeah, a man needs to want to have sex with the woman, and as much as I love Hamilton, I just don’t think of her in that way.”
“What way?”
Jack decided that questions containing what were more difficult to answer than those containing why. How could he phrase it delicately?
“I don’t think of her as someone I want to have sex with.”
“How come?”
“It’s hard to explain.”
“Don’t you think she’s pretty?”
“I think she’s beautiful.”
“She’s nice.”
“Definitely. Very nice.” He felt as though he’d dropped into a Seinfeld episode.
“So, how come you don’t want to have sex with her?”
“Because she’s a friend.”
Jason’s brow puckered. “You don’t have sex with friends?”
“Look, Jason—”
“The friends on Friends have sex with each other.”
Jack stared at his son. “When did you watch Friends?”
“Wasn’t really watching it. Hamilton was watching it, and me and Riker just sorta watched it. But they were friends, and they were having sex.”
“Well, that show’s made up. In real life, a man has to feel something for a woman—”
“Love?”
“No, not necessarily. Attraction. When he looks at her, he wants her.” He sighed at his ineptitude. He was going to attend the next school board meeting and propose they start teaching sex education in kindergarten. “You’ll understand in a few years.”
“You don’t want Hamilton?”
“I don’t want to marry her.”
“How come?”
His frustration level was climbing. How could he explain tactfully, clearly, concisely, that he simply had no sexual interest in Serena? If she stood before him nude, he probably wouldn’t react. All right, he would react. He was, after all, a man. He just wouldn’t follow through on the message his body was sending, because when he looked at her, he saw Steve standing beside her with that possessive grin that always made it seem that his buddy thought he’d walked away with the grand prize.
“Because—”
The acrid stench assailing his nostrils saved him from uttering another inadequate explanation and brought the awkward conversation to a grinding halt. Jack spun around, jerked open the oven door, swore under his breath when he really wanted to curse out loud, and reached for an oven mitt. So much for the uncomplicated brownies.
He carried the darkened remains across the kitchen, dropped the pan into the sink, and turned the water on full force. Water shot up, splattering him, the counter, the floor. Great, just great. He turned off the faucet, grabbed a nearby dishtowel, took a quick swipe at his shirt, the counter, and the floor.
“Throw that into the washer,” he ordered as he tossed the towel at Jason.
Jack didn’t understand why he still had this irrational, overpowering need to impress Kelley. Grilling a steak was a manly endeavor, fraught with danger, primal. It involved fire. He didn’t need to provide anything more than that.
“ Hamilton could make dessert,” Jason suggested as he walked back into the kitchen. “All you gotta do is ask her. I love her desserts. She never burns anything.”
From his son’s mouth to his neighbor’s ears. A knock on the back door sounded a split-second before it opened. Jack and Serena had become so familiar with each other over the years that they no longer waited to be invited inside. A knock gave warning, and then they simply entered.
With Riker in tow, Serena wrinkled her nose. “Ew! Smells like you have a problem.”
“Yeah,” Jack admitted glumly. “I didn’t keep a close enough watch on the brownies.”
“Dad won’t marry your mom,” Jason blurted out. “He doesn’t want to have sex with her.”
�
��Jason! I didn’t say that,” Jack insisted, wondering why he hadn’t realized the conversation had yet to die.
“You do want to have sex with her?” Jason asked, his voice filled with hope.
“No, I…geez.” He shifted his gaze to Serena, grateful to see her fighting to hold back her laughter. “Help me out here.”
Smiling, she shook her head. “But it’s so much more fun to watch you squirm.”
“Mom said she can’t marry your dad,” Riker said.
He looked at Serena. She shrugged. “I think the boys are up to no good.”
“Jason, Riker, go play outside,” Jack ordered.
The boys dashed through the back door, out into the yard where their fort awaited them. Serena crossed over to the sink, edged Jack out of the way, and began working to get his charred dessert out of the pan.
“You really don’t want to have sex with me?” she asked.
He thought he detected hurt in her voice. Surely not. They were friends. The thought of anything more between them had never occurred to him.
“It’s not that…I just…” He shook his head. “Why don’t you want to marry me?”
“Because you haven’t asked.”
Damn. He hadn’t realized she felt that way. “Serena—”
She held up a hand. “I wasn’t expecting you to ask, Jack. I’m just giving you a hard time.”
But something in her voice told him that she might have been considering the possibility. He slid his arm around her shoulders, drew her up against his side, and hugged her. He liked her so much; he didn’t know why he didn’t find her sexy as hell.
“You know, I’ve always thought you were a terrific lady. I’ve never been able to figure out why I never wanted more with you.”
“I have a feeling that I just heard the reason drive up.”
“I don’t know why I have to be here,” Madison grumbled just before she slammed her car door closed.
Kelley climbed out of the car. “Because Jack invited both of us to dinner.” And she still needed the little buffer zone that Madison could provide. She wasn’t exactly sure where things might have ended up last night if Madison hadn’t been on time.