Want You Back

by Karen Whiddon

She wanted to die, to run, and to hide. Instead, she stood alone, ashamed, and fought back conflicting emotions of shame and sadness and the still present, still powerful, desire.

  “Harumph.”

  Oh, great, could it get any worse? Recognizing the voice, Jenny turned slowly.

  “What do you think you are doing?” Justin T. Speerlock wagged a finger at her, his face purple from outrage. His wife, Jenny noticed, was nowhere in sight.

  “Excuse me.” Jaw set, Jake moved in front of Jenny. “With all due respect Justin, this is none of your business.”

  Jenny thought Justin T. would swallow his tongue. With a resigned sigh, she stepped around Jake. She’d known Justin T. Speerlock her entire life and knew how to handle him. If only she could think of something to say that would excuse her strange behavior. “It’s not what it looked like—” she began.

  “If I were your daddy—”

  “Now hold on just a moment.” Again Jake put himself in front of Jenny. “I think—”

  This time Justin moved around Jake. “Listen up, Jenny girl. I know you and Jake here were once engaged to be married, and I can allow as to how you might”—scratching his head, he took time to shoot a glare at the gathering crowd of onlookers—“want a little revenge. But when you tried to humiliate Jake up in the parade platform earlier, why, you made yourself look plumb foolish instead.”

  “Oh really?” Jenny’s voice sounded totally calm. Jake, who knew that the calmness was a prelude to a true red-headed fury, again tried to intervene. “I honestly believe this is just one big—”

  Oblivious, Justin simply raised his voice and kept talking, ignoring Jake. “Now you got a debt to pay, little girl.” Warming up, Justin T. gestured around at the growing crowd. “Yep, the way I see it, you gotta figure out a way to make it up to Jake for the way you tried to humiliate him back there.”

  Jake shut up and began paying attention. This idea might definitely have some possibility here.

  “Oh no.” Jenny, who still knew him better than anyone, caught the drift of what Jake was thinking and shot him a warning glare. “I don’t think so.”

  Hiding his grin, this time Jake moved over to stand next to Justin T., clapping the older man on the back. “You know, Justin is the mayor here,” he said softly, knowing the entire crowd could still hear. “Maybe he’s right.”

  “Of course I’m right,” Justin T. boomed. “Ain’t I?"

  The crowd clapped and roared their agreement. Jenny’s face turned the color of a ripe tomato. Regretfully, Jake knew an angry Jenny would make his life miserable. “I enjoyed the dancing.” He raised his voice, nodding. “Jenny doesn’t owe me anything.”

  “Nonsense,” Justin T. boomed. “You’re a respectable businessman now. Got a reputation to uphold. Then again, so does Jenny.”

  “I’m doing his books.” The hint of defiance in her voice had been replaced by a tinge of desperation.

  “That’s business.” Justin T. dismissed her comment with a wave of his pudgy hand. “Of course you’re doing his books. That’s what you do.”

  Jake had a flash of inspiration. “She’s also helping me decorate Malvoran House,” he announced, ignoring Jenny’s startled look. “She’s going to make sure everything looks perfect for opening day.”

  Justin T. thought about it a moment, then nodded, looking impressed. “All right then.” He harrumphed again, fumbling in his pocket for a cigar. When he found it, he held it to his nose and sniffed. “Did you get that, Louella?”

  “Sure did, sugar.” A tiny, plump woman with white hair nearly as tall as she was, stepped forward, making furious notes on a note pad. “Even though the light’s nearly gone, I got most of it down. It’ll be in the paper tomorrow.”

  Only Jake heard Jenny’s quiet groan.

  Satisfied, the mayor inclined his head at them and wandered off. The knot of people surrounding them began to disperse.

  When everyone was gone, Jenny shook her head and folded her arms across her chest. “I am not helping you decorate the restaurant.”

  “Of course you’re not,” he said soothingly. “I just said that to get you off the hook.”

  “Oh.” She sighed with relief, uncrossing her arms. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He counted silently, and when he got to eight, Jenny flashed him a horrified look.

  “Louella’s gonna put it in her column.”

  Jake shrugged. “So?”

  “So?” She rolled her eyes. “How well do you decorate?”

  Ah, he had her now. Reeling her in would be a matter of seconds. “Good as any man, I guess.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of.”

  Nine, ten.

  “Looks like I am going to help you decorate.” She didn’t sound pleased. But then, he didn’t expect her to. He was pleased enough for both of them.

  “You don’t have to.” But they both knew she did. Otherwise, if Jake decorated and did a horrible job, everyone would think she’d done it.

  In the distance a series of pops signaled the beginning of the fireworks.

  Jake grabbed her hand. “Come on,” he said, his voice gentle. “Let’s go closer so we can have a good view.”

  Jenny went, wondering why she didn’t feel more grateful that he’d tried to help her out Between the dancing and the kiss—oh, the earth-shattering kiss— and now this, she was exhausted. All she wanted to do was go home, crawl underneath the covers and go to sleep.

  They came to the edge of the meadow and stopped, standing in the back behind dozens of lawn chairs and blankets and hushed, awestruck children. In the starless night sky a burst of blue exploded, followed by brilliant white streamers, shooting stars falling to earth.

  Every year Jenny watched the same fireworks; every year she got a chill from the glorious patriotic beauty of it. This year, it barely registered. All she could think about was how good it had felt being held in Jake’s arms. And how she would resist him, alone together in beautiful Malvoran House.

  Still, now that she had no choice, the idea appealed to her. She’d always loved that house, always yearned for a chance to decorate it in a way that would do it justice. Now it appeared she would have that chance. She felt like her life had started over, given her a new beginning, a second chance at happiness.

  To everyone else it was an ordinary fireworks display, festive and pretty. But as Jenny watched the purples and greens and violets exploding, she realized she’d been lying to herself for two years. She hadn’t been alive, she’d been merely existing. In her grief and her pain she’d sealed her emotions away, trying to become a person who let nothing affect her.

  Until Jake had come back, and she’d felt the agony all over again.

  Yet there had been more than pain. She’d felt once again the sweetness of desire, the laughter that comes from the heart. She’d danced to the music the way she used to dance through life, and in return she’d been given back a measure of the joy she had once taken for granted.

  Jake. He’d brought her back to herself. In a way, she did owe him. She owed him for that.

  Biting her lip, she squeezed his hand. After a moment’s hesitation, he squeezed back, his face lifted to the dazzling display overhead.

  Again, Jenny reflected on the drastic change her life had taken. Being with Jake made her so happy. But—and she knew this with the kind of blinding insight that usually only comes in dreams—she had become strong in the two years he’d been gone. Strong enough to make it on her own, without him. Strong enough to realize that nothing came with unbreakable promises. Strong enough to admit that she’d rather have what part of Jake she could than do totally without

  He was here now, for whatever reason. He’d asked to be her friend. Until now she hadn’t thought that was possible, in any way, shape or form. Now, with desire still aching within her, she wondered if they could indeed be friends, maybe more. She guessed she’d find out since they would be spending time together decorating his restaurant

  Then wh
en Jake moved on—and he would, she could admit that now—she would have the part of him that lived on in her memories.

  Jenny laughed out loud at the exact moment they began to fire off the firework finale. She felt free and full of life. She wanted to take Jake’s hand and dance again, she wanted to find a secluded place and let them kiss each other senseless. Instead she stood and clapped at the right moment, slipping her hand from Jake’s to do so.

  Then it was over and they turned to go. Still, Jake didn’t speak, he simply took her arm this time. They picked their way over the grass, Jenny’s mind still whirling. He helped her up into his Jeep, closing the door behind her, and climbed into his side. Starting the engine, he started to shift into drive, then paused.

  “Jenny.”

  The way he said her name made her shiver. Jenny heard in his voice all the pent-up desire and longing she’d been battling with ever since he’d returned.

  “I don’t want to take you home yet.” He looked away, his profile hard and rugged in the dim light. “Come home with me. Please. You can look around the place, get some ideas.”

  Jenny’s heart stuttered. It was too soon. For a moment she couldn’t catch her breath. This, she told herself, was what she wanted. Then why this absurd sense of panic, the feeling that things moved too quickly, that shadows lurked under every tree?

  Despite her grand intentions of trying to start over, could it be that she was still afraid of being hurt again?

  “I can’t,” she heard herself say, and nearly groaned out loud. “It’s late, and I’m tired.”

  Without another word, he put the Jeep in drive and pulled out into the street Still not looking at her, he sighed. “Fine. But still, it’s early, Jen. Barely ten-thirty. Let’s go somewhere and have a drink. Like friends.”

  Friends, she reminded herself, trying to push away the ever present desire that made her blood simmer. Friends.

  “There’s a quiet place on Eighth. They play jazz.” She signaled her agreement with a quick smile, her emotions churning too near to the surface.

  As long as she didn’t let herself give in to the seductive music and the dim lighting, she would be okay. No holding hands, staring into each other’s eyes like lovers. Friends, she told herself firmly, warming to the idea. This might be possible. The Eighth Street Pub was quiet a good place to go to talk. They had live music on weekends and Jake had always liked the sultry murmur of jazz. And maybe in the bar they could talk over drinks, catch up on what had gone on in both their lives for the past twenty-four months.

  Maybe, if she could get past her overwhelming attraction to him, they could work on becoming friends.

  Jenny nearly laughed out loud at the idea. Was she lying to herself again, this time in the opposite direction? Did she want to become friends with Jake so she would have an excuse to wind up in his arms one night?

  The very possibility made her heart pound.

  She would take it as it came. One moment at a time.

  Jake tried to keep from looking at her as he drove towards Eighth and Main. In the closed confines of the Jeep he could smell the light floral scent she wore. He wanted to touch her so badly he ached with it

  Her kiss had surprised and delighted him, before his arousal made him put an end to it If Jenny let him love her like that, it would be someplace private, someplace beautiful.

  Damn. What the hell was he thinking? He couldn’t let things go that far, no matter what his body wanted. Could he? Could he and Jenny be that kind of friend, without the commitment that he wanted with every fiber of his being, the commitment he could not, would not offer.

  He wondered what she’d think if he told her his ugly little secret. No doubt she’d say it didn’t matter, that she loved him anyway. He knew she did, deep inside her, hidden in that place where such things reside. The way he loved her. A love like theirs didn’t just fade away and die. It lived on, no matter what the circumstances, no matter what obstacles fate placed in their path. He could admit that now. The love he felt for her was the entire reason he’d come back to Ater.

  Beautiful Jenny, so warm and sweet and loving. She deserved to have her own children. What a wonderful mother she’d be. How he wished he could be the man who fathered them, raised them with her.

  Once they’d talked about children. He’d wanted her to be the mother of his two boys and a girl that they’d planned to raise together. He almost wished she’d gotten pregnant then, while he’d still been able to father children.

  Thinking of this cooled his ardor faster than anything else could have. It reminded him that he had no right to want to love Jenny or even share her life in any capacity but that of friend. She deserved it all—a loving husband, a big, comfortable house, a dog, and kids. Jake could give it all to her but the last. Because shortly after duty had pulled him away from her, a simple childhood illness that he’d never had until he was grown had changed his life forever. Jake Durham was now sterile. He would never father children of his own. Therefore, he could never have Jenny.

  They reached the corner of Eighth and Main. Jake swung the Jeep into the small parking lot, grabbing one of the last remaining spaces. The club, a nondescript, brick building, sat back among the deserted shops.

  Touched that she remembered his fondness for jazz, Jake turned to look at her. A tear, gleaming silver in the moonlight, ran down her cheek.

  “Oh, Jen.” Not this, he could take anything but this. He didn’t want to make her cry—he wanted to bring her happiness, not tears.

  His heart aching, he didn’t dare move to touch her. He was only human, after all, and could only resist the way she ignited him for so long.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She averted her head, as though she were ashamed that he had seen. “I wish things could have been different.”

  Though she didn’t elaborate, she didn’t have to. Jake understood. He wished the same thing, wished he could have stayed, that they had gotten married, had a child. He wished Malvoran House was not a restaurant, but their home. He was no stranger to these wishes; he’d lost track of how many times he’d railed against fate while locked away deep undercover. His team had become his family, his lifeline to sanity. Jenny had always been his life.

  But Jenny, on the other hand, had tried to forget him. How that admission must have cost her.

  He couldn’t resist reaching for her and cradling her in his arms.

  She cried against his chest. He cried too, in the silent way men do, eyes filling with tears until he rubbed them with his fist to keep them from spilling out. It wasn’t the first time Jake had cried over Jenny. He doubted it would be the last.

  There was nothing sexual in the way he held her. He held her with love, with tenderness, with shared grief. Yet he couldn’t help but be aware of the tempting softness of her curves, the fullness of her breasts, the sweet curve of her hip. As he did every time he thought of her, Jake felt himself grow hard.

  Gradually, Jenny became aware enough to feel it, too.

  “Oh, no.” She sniffed, smiling through her tears. “Not in a parked car.” Fumbling in her purse for some tissue, she swiped at her eyes, shaking her head.

  Amused, aroused, intoxicated by her closeness, Jake kept his arm around her slender shoulders while she tidied herself.

  Finally, she closed her purse and pushed away from him.

  “Okay.” She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry about that, but I’m ready now. Let’s go.”

  Though he no longer had any desire to go into the club—no, he wanted to turn the Jeep around and take Jenny back to Malvoran House—he hurried out and around to her side to open the door for her.

  Inside, it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the smoky haze. Sultry, sensuous music filled the air, rising over the noisy chatter and clink of glasses. They found a seat near the wall, a small table for two, with a flickering candle and a great view of the musicians. Several couples moved on the dance floor, so close they might have been entwined, their eyes closed as they s
wayed to the provocative beat.

  Instantly, Jake realized he could think of no worse form of torture than dancing like that with Jenny, wanting her so badly he could barely walk.

  “Please,” she pleaded, motioning towards the dance floor. “Dance with me.”

  He knew she wanted to dance so she wouldn’t have to think, so she could lose herself in the music and the mood and, hopefully, the man who held her. He found himself wondering if she meant to become his lover tonight, or if the awakening he’d sensed inside her would only allow this teasing taste, no more.

  Jake told himself it didn’t matter. He told himself that it was reward enough that the real Jenny had returned. Then he told himself to stop lying. He wanted Jenny. When he held her in his arms, nothing else mattered. He forgot the reasons why he shouldn’t, forgot that he could never be her husband, forgot everything but her.

  Dancing with her might be a bad idea.

  The cool touch of her hand on his arm drew him out of his thoughts.

  “Please,” she whispered, licking her lips nervously. He was so far gone that it hit him like a sensual invitation, Jenny’s ripe mouth, his to claim in a kiss.

  Not now. Shaking his head, Jake stood and took her hand. Cursing his stupidity, he led her onto the dance floor. The music flowed around them as she came into his arms. He clenched his teeth and tried not to let it bother him, but the sensation of her body molded to his, her breasts soft and full against his chest, brought to mind carnal images so vivid he groaned.

  Then Jenny lifted her head and smiled at him, a woman’s smile full of satisfaction and sensual knowledge.

  Jake couldn’t help it, he chuckled. She knew, knew full well how this affected him. Still grinning, she wiggled against him, letting him know that she not only knew, but enjoyed the heat they generated between them.

  This was no place for them to be. He wanted— needed—to take her home.

  “Jenny—” His voice hitched as she gave a sinuous shimmy to the music. Clearing his throat, he tried again. “Jenny, let’s get out of here.”

  If she heard him, she gave no sign. Instead, she tossed her head, arching her back and her throat in a way that brought to mind one thing and one thing only. On her face she wore a sultry expression, the expression he remembered she got when she was ready to make love.