Jake's Return

by Liana Laverentz

  His heart hammering with a potent mixture of adrenaline, fear, pain, and red-blooded arousal, Jake looked out the apartment-wide triple row of roll-out windows. Above the trees he could see the storm moving over the town like an invading army. The wind howled, and whipped his hair like a desert sandstorm. A brilliant bolt of lightning ripped across the churning charcoal sky, its accompanying thunderclap loud enough to have grown men calling out for mama. He'd seen it happen more than once in the service.

  "Incredible, isn't it?"

  She didn't sound the least bit fazed. Jake looked down at her and felt something inside him break loose. He took in the soaked, muddy clothes that outlined her every sweet curve and a fierce heat engulfed him as he remembered in agonizing detail the feel of her body pressed against his. He burned everywhere with the need to feel her in his arms again. To keep her there until neither of them cared about anything but the way they'd made each other feel in Pittsburgh.

  "Where did you learn to love storms so much?” he breathed, trying desperately to focus on something else.

  Her gaze lifted from his mouth to his eyes. “From you."

  Jake closed his eyes as the memories tumbled through his mind, painfully vivid memories of storms they'd shared as kids. His body throbbed as he recalled sitting on his back porch, pulling her between his legs and wrapping his arms around her from behind, keeping her close and warm and safe. He'd damn near gone crazy with wanting her once she'd started to fill out, but he'd treasured those stolen moments of shared closeness too much to risk losing her trust by touching her sexually.

  And now ... ?

  "Jake?"

  Caught between the past and the present, he opened his eyes and looked down at Rebecca, knowing he was in no condition to start something that could only end in disaster. With a monumental effort at self-control, he shook his head and started to turn away, but Rebecca's unexpected sob stopped him cold.

  "Oh, God, Jake, no ... please ... don't do this to me again."

  The raw pain in her voice ripped him apart. Cursing himself all over again for having hurt her eight years ago, for not letting her go when she'd bolted from the house in self-defense tonight, he turned to face her. Turned to take her in his arms and, once and for all, apologize for every rotten thing he'd done to her...

  Then get the hell out of her life.

  But Rebecca had stepped back, well out of his reach ... and looked totally appalled by what she'd just said. What she'd just let slip. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean that the way it came out."

  Jake stared into her eyes and knew she was lying. The need was still there. Need and an unmistakable desire. For him. Horror swamped him as he realized Rebecca still wanted him. Mind, heart, body and soul. Physically responding to his touch was one thing, but the need in her eyes, this silent demand for him to give her something he was incapable of giving, was sheer torture.

  "Why, Rebecca? Why are you still in Warner? Why do you still want me?"

  She jolted as if he'd slapped her. “I don't."

  "The hell you don't. It's written all over your face."

  "You're wrong. I just want some answers from you."

  Jake doubted it. But he'd play her game. He wasn't in the mood for the truth tonight anyway. “What kind of answers?"

  "I want to know why you left me without a word."

  Jake closed his eyes and swore, then looked past her shoulder, calling himself every kind of fool for not leaving her alone when he'd had the chance. You knew it would come to this, Donovan. You knew.

  "Rebecca. Your windows are still open."

  This time she swore, surprising him. Rebecca and swearing didn't go together in his mind. Rain blasted into the kitchen as she pushed past him to close the windows over the sink. Jake turned and rolled shut the windows on his side of the room. That done, he tried to calm his roiling emotions by concentrating on the changes in the apartment. The kitchen had new appliances, and the dining and living room areas were an unfamiliar mix of white wicker and dark wood. The wood, obviously old and lovingly preserved, reminded Jake of Rebecca's bedroom as a girl. And of the bedroom set he was now using.

  Jake wondered if she'd kept her old room or moved into her mother's, then shoved his thoughts in another direction. This was not the time to be thinking about Rebecca and bedrooms. His body still ached from the unmet need of his earlier arousal. His emotions still recoiled from the question she'd asked.

  To apologize was one thing, but to explain would mean exposing himself, and that he couldn't afford to do. If Rebecca had any idea of how much he cared, he'd never leave Warner again.

  He turned back to the kitchen and noticed her mopping up the counters. He grabbed a towel from the couch, and moved to help her by soaking up the muddy puddles on the floor. His hip screamed in protest, but he didn't care. It got his mind off other things.

  Apparently Rebecca enjoyed her work with the children at the library if the number of art projects she'd brought home with her was any clue. Tossing the first soaked towel into the empty kitchen sink, Jake glanced at the colorful paintings and craft projects that decorated the refrigerator door. He returned to the couch for another towel and noticed the crude ceramic handprint bowl on the coffee table. A battered Raggedy Ann peered up at him from beside the pile of folded towels.

  Rebecca disappeared down the hall, probably to close the bedroom windows. Jake finished mopping up the main living area, then stood and took a look around, grateful his emotions were beginning to settle down. Except for the white wicker, the place was pure Rebecca, all the way down to the recent copies of Antiques, Town and Country, and Country Victorian on the coffee table.

  Seemed her dreams hadn't changed all that much. She was still into antiques and upscale living.

  So what was she doing here in Warner? And what did it have to do with him?

  Jake's gaze shifted to the ceramic handprint bowl next to the magazines, then lifted to the battered Raggedy Ann doll on the couch.

  She had a child.

  "No."

  The word escaped him in fervent denial. He stood there for a long moment, stunned to the core, feeling fresh waves of shock and disbelief roll through him as intensely as the storm that raged outside.

  Then Jake did what he did best.

  He bolted.

  Chapter Four

  Tuesday morning found Rebecca in her office, grumbling over the library budget proposal spread across her desk. Each year it was the same old story. The community's response to the programs the library had introduced during the year was more than positive, but the town council—its chairman in particular—didn't want to pay for them.

  This year she had the added challenge of how to fund the upcoming building expansion, as well. The money to add on the new rooms had already been raised through tireless community efforts, but she'd need new equipment, furniture, books, etc. to fill the new space. The council apparently expected her to pull the money out of thin air.

  Then there was her other problem. Jake. He'd vanished while she was closing the windows in Katie's bedroom. Once she'd recovered from her stunned disbelief, she'd decided she couldn't blame him.

  She'd wanted him. In the middle of the storm. In the middle of her living room floor. And Jake had realized it. She'd seen the shock in his eyes, heard the disbelief in his voice.

  She'd been pretty shocked herself. Getting involved with Jake again hadn't been part of the plan. Even now, recalling the unmistakable desperation in her voice when she'd begged him not to do this to her again made her burn with embarrassment.

  She'd just have to get over it. She'd done it before, she could do it again. So what if she'd humiliated herself in front of the man Sunday night? She wasn't the important one here anymore, Katie was. And Katie deserved the chance to know her father. Just as Jake deserved to know about Katie.

  But if simply letting Jake know she wanted him made him feel as trapped as he'd suddenly looked, what would telling him he was a father do?

  The telephone on h
er desk rang. Irritated by the interruption, Rebecca answered it abruptly.

  "Having a bad day?"

  "Jake?"

  "Got it in one, considering this is the first time we've ever talked on the phone."

  Jake was calling her? Rebecca closed her eyes and slumped back in her chair, feeling ridiculously weak with relief. Maybe she wouldn't have to chase him down again.

  "I'm calling to apologize for Sunday night.” Jake said. “I, uh, shouldn't have left without saying goodbye."

  "Oh.” Her spirits soared, then sank. “I see.” Was he saying goodbye now? Leaving town? Because of her?

  "Guess I've kind of made a habit of it. Cutting out on you like that."

  "Yeah, well, I've kind of gotten used to it.” Rebecca winced even before the words were out. Here the man was apologizing and she was rubbing it in his face. Way to go, Becca.

  Silence, then: “Guess I deserved that."

  Rebecca couldn't agree, or disagree, without making things worse. “So, how much longer do you think you'll be in town?” she asked as casually as she could. Might as well spare herself the suspense.

  A pause, as if he might be trying to gauge the reason behind her question. “Long enough. I found the stash of bills you left inside the bible on my dresser."

  "Oh, I forgot about that. That wasn't my money, Jake. It was already there."

  "You're kidding. It couldn't have been Mickey's—he wouldn't have opened a bible if his life depended on it."

  "Maybe that's why your mother put it in there."

  "My mother?” Jake seemed stunned.

  "It was her bible, wasn't it?"

  "Well, yeah, but ... oh, wow."

  Silence reigned, while Jake apparently digested this new information, and Rebecca considered the image of Jake actually opening the bible in search of guidance after their emotionally tumultuous encounter Sunday night.

  Was it possible he'd found some faith in prison?

  On the other end of the line, Jake cleared his throat. “Anyway, I stocked up on food yesterday. Started scraping the house, too."

  "I know. I heard you.” She'd spent her Monday afternoon sitting by the pool, listening to him scrape, and driving herself crazy. She knew what she had to do, but her fears and insecurities had kept her too paralyzed to even take the first step.

  "I thought you were at work."

  "The library is closed on Mondays."

  "Oh.” He sounded confused. “You didn't come over."

  He'd actually expected her to show up? Apparently her humiliating revelation Sunday night hadn't repelled him as much as she'd thought.

  Ignoring the implications of that, Rebecca vowed not to let her emotions get in the way of telling him about Katie again. God was giving her another chance. She wouldn't mess up this time. She swiveled her desk chair so that it faced away from her office door for privacy and lowered her voice. “To tell the truth, my muscles were a little sore. I also had some work to do. It's budget time.” Not that she'd been able to concentrate for anything, knowing he was just on the other side of the hedge.

  "Does that mean you won't be interested in stopping by to help paint?"

  "Tonight?"

  "Whenever. It's going to take a couple of coats."

  God was definitely giving her another chance. Rebecca laughed in gratitude and sheer relief. Maybe they could work their way through this mess like the friends they had once been after all. Like responsible adults. “Count me in. I've got some laundry to finish up at Aunt Martha's, but I can be at your place by seven."

  Still feeling blessed, she swung her chair back around and hung up the phone. Avery Dillenger, reigning chairman of the town council, all but glared at her from her office doorway.

  Rebecca's smile fell. “Avery. What can I do for you?"

  "Was that Donovan?"

  Taking in Avery's Italian suit, salon-styled hair and classically handsome features, Rebecca could see why, at age thirty-two, some considered him the town's most eligible bachelor. Registering his superior expression and contemptuous tone of voice, she knew why others disagreed.

  "Jake?” she asked coolly. “Yes, it was. He got home on Thursday night."

  "So I heard. You're seeing him again?"

  "Seeing him again? Jake and I were never a couple, Avery. We're friends."

  "You expect me to believe that? You never laughed like that around me."

  Not for the first time, Rebecca regretted having briefly dated Avery during her first summer back in Warner. She'd finally accepted his third or fourth invitation to dinner in a moment of weakness after Katie's fifth birthday—the fifth birthday she'd had to celebrate without a father.

  But things hadn't worked out with Avery—on any level—so as gracefully as she could, Rebecca had stopped seeing him.

  Avery hadn't taken her rejection well. That fall he'd been installed as council chairman—and her boss on paper. In reality, she reported to the entire council. But for the past two years, Avery had made it known he claimed a special interest in his library director. He seemed to take perverse pleasure in making her job as difficult as possible.

  "Why are you here, Avery? Is there a problem with the library?"

  His lips tightened in a way she knew well. Avery Dillenger didn't like being challenged. By anyone. “The council's going to want to take a look at your proposed budget at the next meeting,” he said with unnecessary authority.

  "I'm aware of that. I've been working on it for the past two weeks."

  "We're also going to address the subject of whether to renew your contract at the end of the fiscal year."

  She smiled blandly. “The council does that every September, Avery. It's part of the budget approval process. What's different about this year?"

  "The company you keep."

  "Excuse me?"

  "You know who I'm talking about. The man's a convicted killer. We don't need him around frightening our women and children."

  "He's not some kind of escaped wild animal, Avery."

  "What do you think prison is, Rebecca? Summer camp? Donovan's been living with animals for eight years. He's got no chance of fitting into a quiet family community like Warner."

  "Just where do you suggest he go?"

  "I don't care, as long as it's not here. As council chairman, I have to look at the whole picture. Weighing the impulses of one man against the safety of an entire town—"

  "You make it sound like Jake's going to snap out and go on some kind of rampage."

  "From what I hear, he's done it before. Can you say he won't do it again? Do you know him well enough to guarantee it?"

  "I'm not responsible for Jacob Donovan, Avery."

  "Maybe not, but as our library director, you're responsible to the citizens of this community. If they don't feel safe coming here, we'll have to find someone for the job who inspires their trust."

  Rebecca went cold inside, then hot. The supercilious bastard. He was actually putting her on notice. “If you're finished, Avery,” she said icily, “I have work to do."

  "I'm merely pointing out what you're up against, Rebecca. It's not only me who's wondering."

  "Wondering what?” If Jake was going to start killing people in their sleep? People couldn't be that paranoid, could they?

  "Think about it, Rebecca. He killed a woman in a sexually motivated crime."

  "I refuse to believe that."

  "You're saying twelve jurors and a judge were wrong?"

  "I'm saying the evidence against Jake was circumstantial at best.” The paper had said Jake allegedly strangled the woman in her bed when she'd changed her mind about having sex with him. Rebecca routed the ugly images from her mind. Jake resorting to murder when a woman said no? Totally ludicrous. “The Jacob Donovan I know would never have been capable of such a heinous crime,” she added without any hint of uncertainty.

  "The Jacob Donovan you knew, Rebecca,” Avery corrected arrogantly. “Past tense. You have no idea what the man is capable of now. Has he told
you about prison? The things he saw and did there?” He drew the question out as if the subject gave him a secret thrill. Rebecca suppressed a shudder at the thought. “Think about it, Rebecca. Think about what else he's keeping from you. You might have been friends as kids, but you haven't got a clue as to how his mind works now. If I were you, I'd watch my back."

  "Jake wouldn't hurt me, Avery."

  "From what I understand, he already has,” Avery said smugly.

  Rebecca's stomach took a header, and she mentally cursed the town gossips, but kept her expression bland and pointedly picked up her report. “If you're finished fishing?"

  Dillenger's smile fell. “See you at the next council meeting, Ms. Reed. Make sure your figures add up."

  * * * *

  Rebecca's unsettling exchange with Avery practically consumed her thoughts for the rest of the afternoon. By the time she left work, she'd revived her determination to get a few answers from Jake. The man owed her.

  She stepped into his yard and spotted him immersed in painting the east side of the house. He'd chosen white to cover the weatherbeaten gray. She recalled throwing the suggestion at him in the heat of anger. Seeing he'd taken her up on it softened her mood somewhat. She took a moment to gather her courage, and couldn't help but notice the changes in him over the past four days.

  He looked healthier, heartier ... and sexier than ever in a faded pair of denim cutoffs and new Nikes. The muscles in his tanned back and arms rippled like water as he moved the brush up and down the side of the house in smooth, even strokes. He bent to catch a spot he'd missed on the lower part of the house and Rebecca caught a glimpse of pale white skin as his shorts slipped down the small of his back. He wasn't wearing underwear.

  Heat suffused her. A vivid memory of pale pink sunlight filtering into her college apartment bedroom as she drank in the sight of Jacob Donovan, gloriously naked and sleeping in her bed at last, filled Rebecca with such need she nearly groaned.

  God. The memories were so sharp. So painful. How could she get him to open up about that night, when she couldn't even think about it without hurting?

  More important, how was she going to get him to talk to her about what had happened afterward?