Want You Back

by Karen Whiddon

  The patio had two doors; one from the kitchen, and the other, larger double doors from the main dining room. He led her to the kitchen door, feeling the slight resistance in her fingers, though she followed.

  At the door, he stopped. Considered. Twisted the knob and pulled it open. “I’ll let you look at this first, alone. I’ll join you in a moment.”

  He could have sworn he saw thankfulness in her expression as she walked past him, closing the door behind her.

  Because he needed to be busy, Jake went to the huge, walk-in refrigerator and got a bottle of wine from his personal stock. He located two crystal wineglasses and, muttering a quick prayer, went outside after her.

  She stood in the western corner, gazing out over the dark expanse of lawn. She knew as well as he did what she would find there, hundreds of wild rosebushes, trimmed now but still heavy with blooms.

  The night air seemed charged with emotion. This was, after all, the place where they had spun their dreams

  As he drew closer, he saw she had her head bowed, eyes closed. Suddenly afraid, Jake set the wine bottle and glasses down on a table, reaching out for her with both hands. To his surprise and pleasure she took them, gripping tightly, though she never raised her head.

  It took every bit of his willpower to keep from pulling her into his arms. Only by reminding himself that he had no right was he able to maintain a safe distance.

  “Jenny ...” His voice broke.

  “Why?” When she raised her head, her eyes shone with tears. “Why’d you do it, Jake? Why did you leave me without a word, right before our wedding?”

  He opened his mouth, searching desperately for the right words, but they wouldn’t come. She saw him struggling, pulling her hands from his and rearing her head back as if he had struck her.

  “No.” The flat tone she used cut him worse than any knife. “No more lies. I couldn’t bear to hear them.”

  “I never lied to you, Jen.” He wanted to move closer but didn’t dare. She was too fragile, silhouetted in moonlight, and his heart too exposed to be safe.

  “You said you loved me.”

  He could hear the tears now, shimmering in the husky-hurt voice. “I did love you.” Do love you, though he couldn’t voice the thought out loud.

  “You said you wanted us to be together forever, to marry, to raise a family. Here”—she swung around, waving her hand to encompass the house, the yard, everything—“in this house.”

  Pain stabbed through him. Pain and regret and . . . desire. He was only a man and, ah God, there was only so much a man could take. With a groan, Jake pulled her against him, covering her mouth with his, burying his hands in the luxuriant thickness of her hair.

  Again she was his, and he hers. The past was forgotten, the present unimportant, only elemental male and female, beloved to beloved. The kiss shattered him; even as he deepened it. It drugged him, exhilarated him, growing more urgent as his emotions whirled and his thoughts scattered.

  Jenny. His Jenny.

  With a soft moan, her arms tightened around him. Her hands seared a path wherever they touched his skin. She wanted him too, he felt her tremble with the force of it, and knew he had no choice but to pull away.

  Not yet, not yet. He couldn’t make himself do it, so lost was he in the power and beauty of holding her again.

  Jenny did it for him. With a startled cry, she turned her head, releasing him and stepping back so hastily she nearly fell. “No,” she whispered, looking at him with wide, horrified eyes, her hand across her mouth.

  He wouldn’t allow her to regret it. “Don’t, pumpkin.” Like a fool he reached out a hand, meaning only to comfort her, yet she cringed away.

  “Don’t call me that” She looked fierce now. Fierce and furious and confused and beguiled. “How could you? How could you touch me, kiss me? You have no right. No right at all.”

  “Jen—” But there were no words with which he might defend himself. He knew it as truly as did she.

  “Tell me why, then. Why you left, why you did what you did? At least you can give me that.” As savage as her tone, he felt her pain and anger like it were his own.

  “Answer me, damn you!”

  Again Jake found himself at a loss for words. As of yet he still had received no communication from his superiors, nothing to tell him it was finished, that the mission had been completed. Until they did so, there was very little he could tell her or anyone. “It was not of my choice.”

  Though it was the truth, she didn’t believe him; he could tell as much by the expression on her face.

  Pain warred with disdain as she struggled to find words to express how she felt. “Not of your choice.” Contempt dripped from her voice. “You had a job here, friends. Me—” She turned away, shoulders heaving.

  Helpless, he watched, wondering how she could cry so silently, she who had been given to great gusty sobs of heart-rending emotion. He could not touch her, not again. He knew she would not let him, knew too he had no right to offer her comfort. So he stood, hands clenched at his side, and ached.

  It took only a moment before she had herself under control. Wiping at her eyes with a tissue she got from her purse, Jenny straightened her shoulder and faced him.

  “I wish I could hate you,” she said, an echo of sorrow in her voice.

  His heart lurched, wondering if she didn’t hate him, then what did she feel?

  “But I feel too sorry for you to do that” Slowly she shook her head. “You lost out on a lot when you left here, Jake, and I was only part of it Now you’ll never have it, any of it... the family, the love, the home.”

  She waved her hand at his restaurant, looking grim. “I hope you can live with that,” Jenny said, and turned on her heel and left.

  Jake didn’t go after her.

  Chapter Five

  Jenny made it to her car before she collapsed. Locking the doors behind her, she started it and actually made it two blocks away before she had to pull over. She thought she might be sick. Slumping over the wheel, stomach churning, she deserved to be.

  She couldn’t believe she’d let him touch her, kiss her. Let him? Hah! She’d welcomed his kiss. For one dreamy instant, it had been so easy to forget everything he’d done to her and remember only what he’d meant to her.

  Even now her body throbbed from wanting him.

  Sometimes Jenny wished she could be like other women, those who were able to indulge in occasional affairs, taking and discarding lovers casually. But Jake had been—was still—the love of her life and she couldn’t share her body indiscriminately.

  What had she done? And all because she’d been trying to prove that Jake meant nothing to her? No matter who she tried to tell that to, inside she would always know it was a lie.

  One kiss had proved that beyond a shadow of a doubt.

  “Okay.” Jenny spoke out loud, taking deep gulps of air as she tried to calm her racing heart. “I need to make a plan.”

  Because the thought calmed her, she felt able to put the car in gear and drive home.

  Once there, she dropped her purse on the couch and headed for the kitchen. Pencil and paper in hand, she sat at the kitchen table and chewed on the end of the pencil while she tried to think.

  Howard had taught her this trick, bless his perfectionist heart. He claimed it helped him think straight whenever he found himself in a tricky situation. Personally, Jenny had never believed him, but then she’d never had the need to try such a thing before. Now, desperation drove her.

  She’d taken out an ad in the paper and promised everyone from the mayor on down that she’d work with Jake to get his restaurant going. She’d thought she could keep her mind on the job, but one minute alone with the man had proved that impossible.

  What to do? She doodled on the paper while trying to think of ideas. When the perfect solution came, it seemed so simple she couldn’t believe she’d overlooked it.

  Monica.

  Chewing on the pencil, Jenny knew this would work. She’d have
Monica meet with the client—from now on she would think of Jake that way—note his needs, and bring all the paperwork to Jenny. She then would do his bookwork, taxes, payroll, whatever, and give it to Monica to deliver.

  Monica was young, bright, and pretty. No doubt she would enjoy the assignment. Maybe Jake would form an attachment to her—no, Jenny didn’t want to think about that.

  Business. Everything would be strictly business from now on.

  Thus decided, Jenny tore off the top sheet of paper and crumpled it. She didn’t even need a list She would explain the new plan to Monica first thing in the morning.

  For the first time in quite a while, she slept soundly that night.

  Jenny came awake by degrees, and at first she thought it was Saturday, the one day she allowed herself to sleep late. Full sunlight streamed through her window and the clock on her nightstand said nine o’clock. But, after stretching luxuriously, and contemplating a leisurely cup of coffee, it dawned on her that it was actually Friday. Somehow she’d forgotten to set the alarm—something she’d never done since opening her own business.

  Panic-stricken, she dashed to the phone, dialed her office number, and listened with disbelief to a busy signal. How could it be busy—she had four lines! However, she didn’t have time to worry about it. She rushed through her shower, put on a minimum of makeup, and grabbed a pants suit that she’d just picked up at the cleaners. She was out the door by 9:30, hair still damp and uncurled, but on her way.

  Speeding was another vice Jenny tried not to indulge in. She hadn’t had a speeding ticket since before she’d met Jake, though she loved to drive fast. Correction—used to love to drive fast.

  Now she drove more sedately, rarely more than five miles over the speed limit. Oh, once a year on her birthday, she might go look at sports cars and imagine tearing down some back road. But a fantasy was all it ever was, and Jenny was proud of her self-restraint. Today, however, she put the pedal to the metal and prayed there were no state troopers out with radar guns.

  She reached her office at 9:52. Heart still pounding, she jumped out of her car, and strode briskly into the reception area.

  Monica, with the phone to one ear and all three of the other lines blinking, looked up and grimaced. Concerned, Jenny motioned to her to put the caller on hold.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Whew.” Monica blew out a breath. “Unreal. I swear, life hasn’t been this interesting since I left Dallas.”

  “What happened?” Jenny glanced around the room, hoping there hadn’t been a fire or something.

  Monica cocked her head and grinned. “Like you don’t know. I saw the pictures, you know. Hey, you just missed Donald. He took a couple more pictures for tomorrow’s paper.”

  At Jenny’s blank look, she frowned. “Maybe you should take a look in your office.” With a sigh, she went back to answering phones.

  Okay, one photo of her and Jake and Howard having dinner couldn’t have done this much damage, could it? And why was Donald taking more pictures? Of what? High heels clicking on the wood floor, Jenny rushed down the hallway and pushed open her office door.

  Flowers. The room was full of them. Bouquet after bouquet of flowers. And no boring red roses like

  Howard preferred to send. No, these were flowers one might find in a meadow. Lazy Susans and Daffodils, Snapdragons and Buttercups. Arranged harum- scarum, yet managing to look fresh, wild, and charming. They were exactly what she would have chosen herself. Jenny had no doubt who had sent them.

  Jake. Good Lord. Was this his apology for kissing her? Or did he think this would get him something else? No, the Jake she had known would never have had to resort to any form of bribery. He didn’t have to. He’d given her things, he’d said, because it gave him pleasure to give her pleasure.

  She loved the flowers. Adored them. But hated what their presence might mean.

  Then it dawned on her that Monica thought she was late because she’d spent last night with Jake and the flowers were his way of saying thank you. Oh, no—if that’s what Monica thought, half the town probably believed it too. She headed back to the reception area.

  Back in the reception area, Monica answered line after line. The phones were still lit up like a Christmas tree. Judging from the reaction when Jake first arrived in town, this was par for the course. Something was going on, and Jenny fervently hoped it wasn’t what she thought.

  Monica reassured a caller that yes, Jenny was fine and no, she had no comment. Jenny’s alarm grew.

  The clock on the wall chimed the hour. Ten o’clock. It was Friday morning. She was late delivering the payroll checks, but not more than an hour. She doubted this was why the phones were so busy. It wasn’t late enough to cause everyone to call and complain.

  Monica continued to hold down the fort. Listening,

  Jenny approved. No matter what a caller said, Monica always managed to sound bright and perky, never getting ruffled. On most of the calls she made a few non-committal comments quickly, then went on to the next call.

  Jenny waited patiently for all of thirty seconds. Then she motioned for her secretary to put her caller on hold. “What is going on?”

  Monica tilted her head, smiling wryly. “Come on, Jenny. You know. You have to.”

  Jenny tamped down her rising panic. “No, actually I don’t.”

  It took a moment, but Monica finally frowned in comprehension. “Oh my goodness, you really don’t know, do you?”

  Impatient, Jenny shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “No.”

  “I thought maybe that was why you were so late.” Monica snorted. “You’re never late. I kind of thought it might be a good sign.”

  Staring blankly at Monica, Jenny shook her head. “A good sign? Of what?”

  After studying Jenny for a long moment, all traces of amusement vanished from the other woman’s face. “The morning paper is in the break room. Maybe you should take a look at it. Oh, and Mr. Rhinebeck called. He was wondering where you were with his payroll checks.” Monica shooed her away and went back to answering the phones.

  Her stomach clenching, Jenny gathered up her box of payroll checks. If it was something urgent, she felt quite sure Monica would have told her. Therefore, her job came first. She would look at the newspaper later. Right now she needed to deliver the payroll. When she’d finished her hour long route, Jenny was more perplexed than ever. All morning long, people had been coming up to her and hugging her, telling her how happy they were to see her letting go of the past and looking toward the future. Though she had absolutely no idea what they were talking about, she’d smiled and nodded, making a graceful exit as soon as possible.

  All she knew was that it had something to do with Jake. His name had come up more times than she could remember, though no one had mentioned the flowers. She didn’t even wait to get back to the office—she pulled in to Roy’s Quick Market and bought the last newspaper that he had.

  “I’m proud of you, girl.” Roy grinned as he took her quarter. “Not many people got as strong a backbone as you.”

  “Thanks,” Jenny mumbled, waving and quickly hurrying out with her paper.

  Once in the relative safety of her car, she popped it open. Nothing on the front page—thank the Lord—nor on any of the succeeding pages. Feeling like she’d lost her mind, Jenny flipped through the first section, scanning until she reached what served as the Ater entertainment section. Louella Burton wrote a spicy little gossip column that verged on the malicious. Most of the town folk simply ate it up. Not Jenny. She never read it.

  Not until today, that is. About to turn the page, her name seemed to leap up at her from Louella’s column. Her name and Jake Durham’s.

  The word around town is pretty certain who this year’s Fourth of July Master of Ceremonies will be, she read. None other than Jake Durham, local restaurant owner and bad boy come home to make good. And who, you might ask, should we expect to stand at his side during the picnic and ensuing festivities ? Well, don’
t quote me, but most people think it will be none other than pretty Jenny Reder. While she certainly has a lot to forgive him for, rumor has it that the sparks are already flying between them. They had a steak dinner together last night and were seen making eyes at each other all evening. They even went home together. This reporter believes there might be a rekindling of an old romance in the offing. And it’s about time, I’d say. Our sweet Jenny has spent enough time alone as it is.

  Good Lord. Dropping the paper on her lap, Jenny rubbed her temples. Louella had the facts right, to a point, but she made no mention of Howard, even though he had been there all night with her and Jake. Louella knew Howard had been dating Jenny, yet she’d made it sound as if Jenny sat home alone each night, knitting sweaters for the homeless or something. No wonder everyone had been congratulating her all morning!

  And Jake. Mortification made her stomach chum. What would he think when he read this? At least she didn’t have to worry about Howard—he paid no attention to what he termed petty gossip. He didn’t even read the local paper, preferring to take the Dallas Times Herald and the Houston Chronicle.

  Good night. Just when she’d thought things were awful, they went from bad to worse.

  She glanced at her watch. She would fix this. The annual Fourth of July picnic was still four days away. She had plenty of time to visit Louella and get her to print a retraction. After all, the columnist seemed like a reasonable woman. Jenny did her taxes every year. Everything would be fine. She’d make sure of it. Then her life could return to normal.

  Or so she sincerely hoped.

  Driving back to the office, Jenny took deep breaths.

  It seemed important that she appear calm and unflustered when she talked to Monica.

  In fact she felt anything but Climbing out of her car, Jenny fixed a pleasant smile on her face. There was still the plan that she’d dreamed up last night She would tell Monica about it this afternoon.

  Inside the office the phones had finally calmed down.