Never.
Love came with too much baggage. Katie had never liked baggage.
Chapter 7
Katie sat in the sun, devastated by the idea of falling in love with Jace. She could enjoy the way Jace's eyes glowed with pride whenever he cooked and presented a perfect meal. She could accept that he took the slow road to come to the same conclusion she had on impulse. In fact, he was good at developing her ideas for her, making them workable. And, she admitted, with a grin, he filled his jeans very nicely. But love him? No way. Not him. Not ever.
She wasn’t that stupid. She was a realist, not a dreamer. She’d learned the hard way that love was for other people.
Jace lifted his head and pulled himself up beside her. She watched him carefully, sure he would kiss her. He touched her chin with one long, strong finger and tilted her face up to his.
"You were right. We don't need wine," he whispered against her lips just before giving her what she wanted.
The sun, the warm fresh air, the crows, all seemed to disappear when she felt the gentleness of Jace's lips. He kissed her tenderly at first, and then became bolder as she responded. She slid her palms to his chest, filling her hands with a solid wall of hot muscle. As she moved to touch the tips of his hair, he groaned into her mouth and slid his hands to her bottom.
She wanted to crawl into his lap, pull him down to cover her, straddle him, and strip off his clothes: anything to keep this urgency alive. Swamped by her cravings, overwhelmed by her heart’s desire, she answered his groan with one of her own. “Jace,” she whispered against his lips.
The crow cackled at them again, the sound chastising. They were in public and none of what her body needed could happen. Not here. She broke their embrace and leaned away. He blinked as if waking.
Her skin tingled all over as she yanked the hem of her skirt down to barely decent. “Whew. You pack a punch, Mr. Donner.”
“So do you.” His neck was flushed and his eyes still held heat. For her.
But only a fool would go further. The warning echoed in her empty head. "We've got company." She sighed, indicating their feathered observer. Her thoughts had been going in altogether the wrong direction. Only a fool would think of love.
Jace tossed the hopeful bird a hunk of bread crust. "When I said I'd teach you to ride, I meant it. But now I see that learning on a tandem is a bad idea. We'll find an old bike at a garage sale for you to learn on. Then scratches won't matter."
"Maybe they won't matter to the bike, but what about the scratches that end up on me?" She rubbed her arms to dispel a sudden chill. Her skinned knee was healing but bikes could break bones.
He grinned.
"So, tell me, Kate, what other things did you miss out on when you were going from foster home to foster home?"
She shifted, uncomfortable with the drift of the conversation. "I don't know. Kids don't miss what they've never had."
"But there must have been games, toys that you wished for that you never got?"
She shrugged to dismiss the importance of the memories. "I had disappointments, but all children do. We can't all have everything we want."
Kate shifted away from him, her body stiffening as she gazed at the mountain. Her set chin and hardened eyes told Jace more than he wanted to know.
He recalled the poor kid wailing in the playpen that he’d seen. Some children never got anything they wanted. He suspected little Kate Calhoun had been one of them.
He threw an arm across her shoulder and drew her back against him. She relaxed in his arms and he eased his other arm around her, cocooning her in his embrace.
"I never had a teenage fashion doll," she admitted wistfully. “Like the ones some women say are ruining young girls’ self-image. I really really wanted to be ruined. I wanted to pretend to be a nurse, or a veterinarian or any of the other outfits you could get. If I had the right clothes, I could be anyone in my imagination.”
"One of these days, I'll give you the missed steps of your childhood." He rubbed her arms and spoke against the top of her head. "That's a promise."
* * *
The next morning at the lot was uneventful, with minimal business and few telephone calls. It was Jace's day off. Bill was calling his recent contacts to see if they were interested in any of the new stock. A fat, lazy fly hummed and buzzed its way around the showroom until Katie shooed him out the door. Most of her paperwork was caught up. She drummed her fingers on her thigh.
Maybe Jace would like an ice cream. They could stroll around the marina, get some fresh air. Talk.
She’d been a full on coward the night before, afraid to be alone with Jace. As tight as her control could be, something about that man could snap it. He’d wormed his way through her defenses, like a thief avoiding barbed wire. But an ice cream at the marina would be safe enough.
After supper, she’d excused herself to run errands and stayed out until she was sure he’d gone to bed.
"Bill, I'm going home. Nothing's happening here and Harry may need me." Which was unlikely, but it was the best she could come up with. "If business doesn't pick up, lock up early and get a head start on Friday night." She couldn't ask him to stay when she was happy to leave.
She hummed happily all the way home until she saw the front yard. Grass cuttings were strewn across the sidewalk and the lawnmower stood in the corner by the front porch. Her hum shriveled into a groan at the sight. She’d forgotten. Jace was a man who believed a well-tended lawn equaled a well-tended life.
He believed the lie. While she’d lived the ugly truth: some of the prettiest houses and best gardens were a mask to hide behind.
She strode through the front door and straight into Harry's room. He was on the phone and abruptly hung up when he saw her.
"Jace cut the lawn," she announced, disappointed that she'd been too infatuated with his electric blue eyes to pay heed to her own warning. And now look at her, off work early just to spend a few stolen hours in his company. Hours that would yield nothing but broken dreams she wished like hell she could deny.
Torn by her desire to spend the rest of the afternoon with Jace and her blunt need to protect her heart, she barely noticed the hurried hang up. Must have been a poker buddy, but when Harry didn’t say who he’d been talking with, she let it go.
She wasn’t his babysitter and he’d get better faster without her hovering all the time.
"Yeah, he wouldn’t let me do it." Harry grunted, apparently not in the least bit interested in why she was home at this time of day. She left him engrossed in a game show.
Jace wasn’t in the kitchen, but she heard a thud and a curse from the floor above. Jace must have dropped something. She followed the sound of his footsteps overhead and went back out to the front entry. Jace barreled down the stairs and caught her briskly by the shoulders before she could speak. He kissed her soundly on the cheek, eyes alight.
"I'm glad you're here," he said, between breaths.
"You're going out?" So much for sneaking off for a quiet afternoon—she caught the thought before she said it aloud.
"I've got a meeting at SeaTac Airport." He grinned. "My new boss arranged a stopover for a couple hours. I thought I had time to get the front lawn cut and raked, but..."
"Time ran out?" She finished for him, trying not to wonder what the meeting would entail. Would Jace be told to leave for Switzerland immediately? Would he mind? Her thoughts whirled.
"Yes, I've got to run." He shrugged and smiled. "I'll finish the lawn tomorrow after work."
She'd hoped he'd want to spend Saturday night with her. "I could rake it for you," she suggested, which surprised the hell out of her.
"We make a hell of a team, don't we?" His voice dropped to a husky lover's murmur. He brushed her lips lightly again. "Gotta run," he said, as he turned and left her in the hallway. She watched him dash across the lawn and jump into his car.
After he left, Katie realized her fingers rested on the tingle of skin on her cheek that he had kissed.
> Jace took so much for granted. Easy kisses, light caresses, warm gazes. Sometimes he overwhelmed her with his casual acceptance of their mutual attraction.
When she caught a glimpse of Harry watching her moon over his nephew from the safety of his sickbed, she fled upstairs to change into work clothes.
The afternoon raced by as she raked the cuttings. When she finished with them she looked at the rest of the property. The short hedge beside the driveway had grown ragged in the short time she'd been here. She found an old pair of hedge clippers in the garage and set to work.
The whole time she worked, she thought about Jace's hands, face, early morning bristles, his patience, warmth, the funny lift to his chin when he watched her. Their kisses on the blanket yesterday still thrilled her.
Jace Donner was far more dangerous than the men she warned herself didn't exist: family men, upstanding citizens, faithful husbands and dependable fathers. Jace was definitely real, red-blooded, all-male real and he wanted her. She wheeled the lawnmower into the garage, stowed the rest of the gear and closed the door. She swiped her forearm across her forehead and groaned.
Her arms felt sorely abused and she was finally able to think of nothing but a hot bath. She’d suffer for this gardening tomorrow, but for now, bubbles and steam and gallons of hot water called to her.
Sighing in anticipation, she hurried for the front door. She'd spent far too many years in crowded facilities and homes where bathroom time was at a premium not to want peace and quiet when she was in the tub now.
Katie staggered into the house and up the stairs, too tired to look in on Harry. The sound of the water filling the tub drowned out the voice inside that said she should check on him. He was improving steadily now and going for longer walks every day. She drizzled scent under the flow and watched as steam rose.
Stripping off her clothes felt like freedom. She left them in a pile on the bathroom floor and sank into the tub with a sigh of satisfaction. Heaven would feel and smell like this.
She soaked for a long time, floating on endless daydreams. Jace had proven that she was wrong about men. There were some dependable ones out there. She pondered what life could be like with a man like Jace in it. A man like Jace, her inner voice warned, but not Jace.
There were still too many differences between them and she would never fit into his life.
When she heard Jace's voice downstairs, her daydreams popped and disappeared. Would he tell her what had happened at his meeting? Would he care enough about her to share his plans?
The nagging thought had been in the back of her mind all afternoon, in spite of wearing herself out with the yard work.
She climbed out of the tub and let the water drain. Reaching for a towel, she heard Jace bound up the stairs. He rapped on the door.
"What's for supper, Kate?" he asked through the door. His voice held a teasing quality that brought out a smile.
She snorted because they both knew she was not the cook in this cockeyed family reunion.
"I deserve pizza. Did you notice the front yard?" She toweled off briskly. Now that he was home, she didn't want to hide away in here anymore.
"A fabulous job. Thank you." She heard him walk down the hall. Then she heard his footsteps return. "Kate?" he called again.
"Yes?" She let her smile creep into her voice.
"I think you deserve pizza too."
She slipped on her robe, tied the sash and opened the door. Jace was leaning on the far wall. "Hi," he said, his voice throaty.
"Hi."
"You smell good." He straightened and touched a damp tendril of hair resting on her collarbone. His fingers were warm, his eyes alight with mischief. "I missed you."
The same warmth that had coursed through her earlier, out in the sun, where it had a right to be, bloomed deep inside. The hallway was dim and cool, giving her no excuse for the heat other than her own reaction to Jace.
He let go the small curl, allowing it to fall to her chest. A drop of water soaked into the fine silk of her robe. Her nipple beaded under the damp silk.
He trailed a gentle fingertip down from her collarbone to her breast. When he found her nipple she gasped. He circled it, slowly, watching it peak harder. He cupped her breast, all the while rubbing her nipple with the pad of his thumb, until she went weak in the knees with the delicious sensation.
"Jace," Katie murmured, shifting closer, trying to think, trying to remember why it was important to think and failing completely. All she wanted was to be close to him. And then she was.
He enveloped her in his arms, holding her close to his chest. She leaned against him, hearing the steady, reassuring beat of his heart, smelled his warm, aroused male scent—the scent she responded to fully without realizing it.
When he kissed her all conscious thought ceased as he swept her into a storm of desire so deep she ached. The demand in him raged into hunger. She laced her fingers through his hair. Yes, a hunger her deepest feminine need longed to satisfy.
He nibbled at her throat, neck, the hollow under her jaw. Their breath joined, mingled as their mouth sought more tastes, more texture. She felt her sash give way under the quest of his hands for her flesh. She moaned encouragement frustrated that he was fully dressed.
Then he was back at her mouth again, catching her light sigh. His hands smoothed her back to rest on her behind. As he molded her, he held her tight against him. She strained toward his hard thighs, her heart thundering in her ears, pounding in rhythm with each frustrated undulation of her hips.
Want, heat, need. Hunger. Jace.
All these things blended into one incredible urge to be complete with him, to be completed by him.
His warm hands glided under her open robe, along her ribs, up to her breasts, as his harsh breath rasped against her ear. He kissed her chin softly and the tip of her nose, and then rested his forehead against hers. He filled his hands with her until she had to do the same.
She reached out and pressed her palms against his flat belly. Hard muscles jerked under her touch. Fascinated, she did it again until his low moan made her look into his eyes. He was fully aroused. Hot and... explosive. She took a deep breath.
He touched her where she was slick and ready. She read raw desire in his eyes. He swirled his finger and she bloomed wet and open and vulnerable. For him. His fingers brushed at her, gentling the initial shock, easing her open.
She reached for his belt, then his tab and zipper, fighting to hold on to her control. Low contractions teased at her as he rubbed and retreated only to return to his sensual torture.
She found his erection, hardened flesh covered with velvet. Each brush of her fingers made his breath ragged against her cheek—and then he pulled back.
They held each other. His fingers in her wetness, hers on his hard demand.
"What... are we... doing?" Jace whispered between gritted teeth, his hand full of moist, warm woman. He moved a finger and brought a flare of heat to Kate's beautiful, brown eyes. She was so giving and trusting. He moved his hand again and she let out a quiet moan that drove him crazy, as she opened her legs to give him more room. He had to get them to a bed, had to be inside her.
It wasn't fair to hold her like this, on the edge.... She rocked against him, nibbling at his neck, sucking at his earlobe and encircling him with her small, delicate hand. Her fingers clenched and unclenched, bringing unbearable pressure and pleasure.
Jace throbbed as she explored him, taking his measure, cupping and squeezing him. He was totally aroused now, and at her mercy.
There was no other place or time to be, Katie thought. There was just here and now and Jace and her. She wanted to climb up his body and settle over him, wanted to sink lower and lower while he strained higher and higher into her. Joined, melded into one body, one soul. She didn't just want it, she needed it, needed him.
Pushed over the edge, she moved against his questing hand more forcefully, deliberately. Swamped with love and desire and the need to answer his demand, she crashed t
hrough her control and took him to the very edge of his. He covered her mouth with his when she cried out, swallowing the sound of her fulfillment. The thundering of her heart filled her as she leaned against him, needing his support.
"I'm sorry," he whispered softly into her hair. "I shouldn't have let things go this far."
She shuddered. Sorry? He was sorry? She tried to control the remaining light tremors of release. Unbelievably, his hunger still called to her. She found him again, still ready, still throbbing. After a long, rattled sigh he pulled away from her.
"No, not here." He breathed heavily against her ear. "I want more than this for you. For us."
"Us?" Her belly went cold. Foolish foolish man.
"I want," he said with an edge of frustration in his voice, "to give you more than a quick fumble and grab in the hallway."
The images he brought to mind made her head swim. But some sense of self-preservation asserted itself and she had to ask. "What do you mean by more?"
"There's more to this, to us, than just sex, Kate."
She nodded, unsure of where he was leading. "Of course there is. I don't sleep with just anyone, Jace. But if you're starting to dream little dreams, forget it." She couldn’t afford to be tempted by his wrongheaded talk. That way lay disaster.
He tugged the edges of her robe closed, his hands hot against the silk. As he tied her sash, she watched his face for any sign to help discern his thoughts. Whatever was on his mind, he hid it well.
"Let's just accept what we have, for what it is," she said quietly. "We care for each other, but that's all. Don't think there's anything more."
"If you weren't so scared, I'd believe you." He smiled and kissed her briskly on the forehead.
Before she could respond to his ridiculous notion that she was afraid, the sound of the television downstairs suddenly blared up to them. Katie froze immediately.
"Harry must have opened his door," she whispered.
"Katie," Harry called upstairs.
Spring Into Love Page 59
