Harlequin Superromance January 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Everywhere She GoesA Promise for the BabyThat Summer at the Shore

by Janice Kay Johnson

  And she didn’t have any illusions—Zack was temporary. Sure, they had a physical combustibility that put Ma O’Leary’s cow and the Chicago fire to shame. But beyond lust, they didn’t have a shred of common ground aside from the piece of land he wanted, and she would never sell.

  Jamie threw back her blankets. Maybe a cup of warm milk with sugar and vanilla would help her sleep.

  At the big windows overlooking the salt flats and ocean, she sipped the milk and tried to relax before going back to bed. Marlin rubbed around her ankles, yowling a complaint. Cats liked predictability and the past four nights had unsettled his expectations of the world.

  Back in bed, Jamie patted the pillow. Marlin finally jumped up and stared at her in the gray darkness.

  “Right,” she agreed. “I was unfaithful to you. Another male spent the night in my bed, and I’ve got to admit, he knew what he was doing.”

  Marlin yawned.

  “Yeah, I suppose you have no interest in that side of life since you’ve been fixed. Otherwise I might try to find a sweet little feline number at the animal shelter to keep you company.”

  Jamie rolled over, punched her pillow and stewed. When Zack had kissed her the first time, she’d wondered whether he might be thinking getting close to her would help him get what he wanted. The possibility still couldn’t be ruled out, at least subconsciously on his part. Zack Denning was a man who made professional and financial achievement his top priority. Even if she did want a relationship with someone, it wouldn’t be with someone like him.

  CHAPTER TEN

  SEVERAL DAYS LATER Jamie decided that sleeping in her own bed had made little difference to the amount of rest she was getting. She was spending entirely too much energy thinking about the way Zack had touched her. Of course, her sexual experience was mostly limited to her ex-husband, which wasn’t much to judge by. On the other hand, Zack might have set an unreasonably high standard. Though it was hard to be sure since he’d given her the first genuinely explosive orgasm of her life; it might not seem so incredible a second time.

  On Wednesday evening when she heard the clock in the living room chime midnight, she groaned—she’d been in bed for hours without a minute of sleep. The idea kept sneaking into her head that she ought to give herself another night with Zack and prove to herself that sex with him wasn’t such a big deal. If she ever changed her mind and decided to make a future with someone, then it wouldn’t be fair to have Zack as an impossible standard.

  Idiot.

  Jamie punched her pillow, and Marlin jumped from the bed, thoroughly offended at being disturbed.

  The prior winter had been so nice—no land-dispute complications, no customers or lawyers, and best of all, no men or churned-up emotions. Was it any wonder that Granddad had lived as a hermit most of the year? It now seemed utterly sane the way he’d sold vegetables for a few months, spending time on the land he cherished, and afterward retreated to his house while the world rushed on without him.

  She yawned and tucked her hand beneath her cheek, finally drifting to sleep.

  When the phone rang, jolting her awake, it felt as if she’d barely closed her eyes. Lifting the portable handset, she stared blearily at the caller ID before answering. It was her father. Much as she loved him, she’d have preferred more sleep.

  “Hello, Dad.”

  “Hi, sweetheart. Did I wake you?”

  Jamie glanced at the clock. “It doesn’t matter. I have to be up soon to go to the fruit stand.”

  “That’s why I called at this hour. I know you aren’t a morning person, but you told us you were going out to the stand early these days. Of course, I guess I could have called you later, when you were at the trailer...though I’d hate to disturb you when you’re helping a customer.”

  There was a tone in his voice that his family knew well. Her father was terrific, but quite capable of anxiously hemming and hawing around a subject without ever getting down to it.

  “What’s up?” she asked.

  “It’s... Well...you see, Tim called yesterday. Your mother and I decided we should let you know.”

  Lord. Jamie had hoped Tim had gotten the message that his calls weren’t welcome since he’d finally stopped his incessant attempts to contact her directly.

  “What did he want?”

  “To ask how you are. He said he didn’t want to bother you, but hoped we could fill him in.”

  Jamie closed her eyes and counted to ten. She didn’t blame her parents for being confused over the end of her marriage; she’d never explained what a jerk Tim had turned out to be.

  “What did you tell him?”

  “That everything was fine. It is, isn’t it?”

  “Absolutely. I’m quite happy about the move here.”

  And, aside from total confusion concerning a particular man and his effect on her libido, it was the truth. The vandalism was a bump in the road, nothing more. As for her libido, she’d deal with it...though admittedly, it was a lot easier to abstain from sex when your experience with it was indifferent at best.

  “That’s wonderful,” her father said. “We’ve been worried with the house being so isolated. Not to mention the fruit stand out on the dunes and you there all day by yourself with people coming and going.”

  “There’s no need to be concerned,” she assured him. “And I’m not alone out here any longer. There’s a big new resort next door and lots of high-toned people who are always around.” She didn’t want to mention Zack or Brad, because if Tim called again, her folks would probably get chatty and pass on any information they’d heard. “Look, Dad, Tim shouldn’t be calling you. We aren’t married any longer.”

  “Even if a marriage ends, that doesn’t mean people stop caring.”

  “I know. It’s just...” Her voice trailed off. She’d planned to say it was her business and she didn’t want anyone else mixed up in it, but her father wouldn’t understand. Divorce was relatively rare on both sides of the family and they were all trying to make sense of how to handle the changed relationships.

  “Yes?” The anxious note in his voice had returned.

  “Nothing. Don’t worry about me. I’m doing great.”

  They chatted a few minutes longer before saying goodbye, and she hung up the phone in relief. It was her own fault—in order to protect her pride, she hadn’t told her family the real reasons she’d ended her marriage, so there was no point in getting uptight that they didn’t understand. But if Tim kept contacting her parents, she’d have to explain.

  Stretching, she jumped out of bed and made a decision—sleep deprived or not, she would be in a good mood today.

  At the fruit stand, she chatted with the farmers as they unloaded boxes. She washed berries for sampling and greeted Brad when he arrived. It was barely past eight-thirty, but Brad Denning was military and she’d always suspected that marines rose before dawn and bench-pressed trucks for light exercise.

  “Isn’t this a fantastic day?” she asked, waving at the brilliant blue sky.

  “The best,” he agreed.

  Brad didn’t stay long and said he’d probably see her on his second circuit. She admired his determination and wondered if he anticipated a return to active duty. From what he’d said, he was eligible for twenty-year retirement—though talking about retirement seemed odd for a man who couldn’t be more than forty. Brad wouldn’t settle for coasting his life away, so if he retired, the challenge would be finding something else worth his dedication.

  Not that it was her business.

  It was when Zack dropped by that Jamie’s cheerful mood faltered.

  “Any more problems?” he asked.

  “No. It’s been fine.”

  “That’s great.” He looked distinctly uncomfortable. “Um, should we discuss the other night?”

  “There’s
no need,” she said quickly.

  “It might be a good idea.”

  “And men say women have a burning need to rehash everything. I don’t.” The last thing Jamie wanted was to discuss anything with Zack, especially the other night. Her brain was reeling from the internal debate; she didn’t need an external one.

  Zack’s gaze narrowed. “You can’t tell me you take...uh...sex casually.”

  “No, though unlike you, I can say ‘sex’ without hesitation.”

  “I was trying to be sensitive. It’s a buzzword for some women.”

  “Not for me,” she lied. It wasn’t a huge lie; it was more like stretching the truth. “And to be honest, I’m glad you didn’t employ the phrase ‘making love’ or a euphemism such as ‘going to bed together.’ I don’t need euphemisms and it wasn’t making love. It was sex—a mistake we both made in the heat of the moment. We don’t have to beat it to death with conversation.”

  He frowned. “I wouldn’t necessarily call it a mistake. And even if it was, I’m at fault for initiating it.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Give it a rest. I was there, too, and unless you slipped something into my drink, I can take responsibility for my actions. Cripes, how long has it been since you had sex?”

  “It’s... Well, not since we broke ground, and I’m not sure when before that.”

  “That explains it—I was a drink after a long drought. No wonder it seemed hot.” Privately, Jamie thought the idea was depressing, but she wouldn’t admit it out loud. She’d never thought of herself as strikingly attractive, but she defied any woman under a hundred to be indifferent to how a man like Zack Denning saw her.

  Zack shook his head. “It was more than that, or what I’m trying to say is that it wasn’t—”

  “So it wasn’t hot?”

  “It was hot, but not because it had been a while.”

  “Hmm. How can you be so sure?”

  “Because...” He stopped when a car drove into view.

  Jamie lifted her chin. “I have customers coming. Maybe we should wrap this up and—”

  “I’d still like to talk about the land.”

  The remnants of her pleasant mood fled. “At the risk of sounding repetitious, I’m not selling.”

  “Yes, I know. But there may be other options to discuss. I could have some other signs painted, or even bring in a stand that would fit better.”

  “I really don’t...” The car stopped and passengers spilled out. She sighed. “I’ll give it some thought. Just leave, will you?”

  The cheerful family careened toward the stand.

  “Want some caramel corn, mister?” one sticky-faced youngster asked Zack, holding out his bag. He was around six years old, a darling age in Jamie’s opinion, but Zack looked as if he were being confronted by an alien offering to suck out his brains.

  “No. Uh, thanks.” Zack backed away and glanced at Jamie. “We’ll talk later.”

  His discomfort couldn’t have been more obvious, and it occurred to Jamie that he probably didn’t spend much time around kids. On his “tour” he’d explained the resort had facilities for children, including licensed nannies to provide child care, but it was primarily geared toward adults.

  Children... A faint, melancholy ache went through Jamie.

  She was still determined not to tie up her life with anyone, but that also meant kids weren’t in the equation. Tim hadn’t wanted a family and she’d given up hoping he’d decide otherwise, so when they’d divorced, getting pregnant was the last thing on her mind. If she ever considered another relationship, she’d most likely want children, which was another reason not to get romantic notions about Zack. Colicky babies and luxury resorts didn’t exactly fit together. But then, she doubted marriage fit into his plans, either, so she had nothing to worry about, romantic notions or not.

  * * *

  ZACK DROVE AWAY from the Little Blue Fruit Stand in frustration. Damn, why had he admitted how long it was since he’d been with a woman? And he should have waited to talk about the land. To go from discussing sex to business was probably as crass as a guy could get. But he’d let himself get short-circuited again. Jamie had on a worn pair of jeans that showed her curves and a snug T-shirt that reminded him all too well how great she looked without it.

  For days he’d been trying not to think of making love to her, yet this morning he’d had a sudden urge to talk, and not only about the fruit stand. Why hadn’t she contacted him to discuss what had happened between them? She was right; that was what men expected women to do...beat a subject to death, or at least into abject submission, particularly when it came to relationships and intimacy.

  Across the golf course he saw his brother, and it reminded him of what Jamie had said about Brad and Kim.

  Was it possible they felt something for each other? He knew they’d crossed paths over the years. If Brad came through San Francisco he usually called Kim, and when he’d been stationed at Quantico in Virginia, she’d stopped to have dinner with him on her vacation. Hardly the courtship of the century, or if it was, it would take a century to get anywhere. Yet, Kim was visiting Mar Vista more often now that Brad was here; her name was on the reservations list again for the coming weekend.

  Hell, he didn’t have time to think about Brad and Kim at the moment. He was giving another personal tour to old friends that morning, and going to the fruit stand had taken most of the time he’d planned to spend reviewing purchase orders.

  Lifting the microphone on the SUV radio, Zack signaled the office.

  “Hey, boss,” Trudy greeted him. “I thought you’d be here an hour ago.”

  “I got sidetracked. You checked those orders, right?”

  “I always do.”

  “No issues with any of it?”

  “Nope.”

  “Then send the approvals through.”

  “Sure, boss. Anything else?” Trudy’s voice sounded brighter. Maybe her morning sickness had improved—so far it hadn’t caused much disruption to the office, and he was trying to be genuinely happy for her and Rick. They were a terrific couple, and if having a baby was something they wanted, he shouldn’t begrudge them that.

  “Nothing right now. Talk to you later. I’ve got some folks I’m meeting.”

  “Have a good morning.”

  He signed off and headed to the restaurant where he was picking up Don and Nina Courtland. Strangely, the prospect of spending time with them seemed dull, but it was probably because it was the fourth tour he’d given in a week. Still, he was wondering if there were more important things to do than showing off swimming pools.

  * * *

  JAMIE FINISHED THE DAY, trying to restore her good humor. For a woman who’d accused her neighbor of being a grizzly bear, she had to admit to being quick on the draw herself lately. Zack, in particular, knew how to push every button she possessed, but he hadn’t managed to push them that morning. Maybe it would get easier now that the sexual tension had been released. She hoped so.

  Brad showed up as she was stowing the leftover produce in the back of the truck. It was his fourth loop of the day, and he’d pushed so hard, there was a yellowish-gray tinge to his face. The source of his restless tension wasn’t a mystery—he’d mentioned that Kim was coming the next day. There was something both sad and hilarious about watching two people who’d been in love for years and didn’t have a clue how they felt.

  “Want a ride?” she asked as she finished her final tally.

  He hesitated, pride obviously warring with good sense. “Sure,” he said. “To the gate.”

  “Is there any chance you cook?” she said as they climbed into the truck cab. “I’ve got more leftovers than usual.”

  “I can knock together a meal.”

  “Good—grab one of the paper sacks in the back when you get out.”

>   At the main entrance he did as she’d suggested and limped down the road; she wished he’d let her drive him to his door, but the man was too stubborn.

  That evening she cast a pendant she’d been working on and was pleased when she examined the finished piece later that night. It should work well for the art gallery. If it sold quickly, she might make more. She’d thought of casting unique designs, the problem being that they’d have to be very high priced. But she could make limited runs and number them.

  Things were getting back to normal. Zack obviously wasn’t through with his efforts to change things at the stand, but she could deal with it. She might even agree to new signs, yet she wasn’t sure about retiring Granddad’s trailer. It was a tradition.

  With so much falling into place, she should have fallen asleep easier, but it was well after midnight before she drifted off. For someone getting up by six, it was an awfully short night. Even so, she drove to the stand that Friday morning with renewed determination to relax and keep a good attitude. She was confident she’d be successful—as long as Zack didn’t show up.

  As she drove over the dirt road, she looked at the trailer and slammed on the brakes.

  It was a mess.

  After days of nothing happening...now this. The canopy was knocked down but the fabric was spread out, showcasing a sloppily spray-painted Get Out. Some of her display boxes were thrown aside and broken, as if someone had backed a car into them.

  She parked and walked around the trailer, feeling sick. The chairs were gone.... She found them thrown over the rise on the beach. Spoiled fruit was smeared over everything, and when she went inside the trailer, she found it was smashed on the walls there, as well. That was the worst part and tears stung. It seemed a particular sacrilege, to invade a private space and make it the target of such nasty venom.

  Jamie decided sadly that cleaning the interior would have to wait until she’d taken care of the more visible damage. First, she had to hide the spray-painted letters on the canopy before her deliveries started arriving. Fingers trembling, she snapped several pictures with her phone for documentation. Then she cleared away the debris and half rolled and folded the awning so she could shove it out of sight.