by Melody Anne
Yeah, he’d heard it all. Dang. And how was she going to keep her distance when he said he was so against commitment, but then took in a beautiful lost dog? He might say one thing, but his actions said another. Alyssa was more confused than ever as she sat there not knowing what to say.
“Also, I have had many an erotic dream over your curves. You are unbelievably sexy and I would be more than happy if you climbed into my bed—completely naked. Anytime, night or day. You can wake me; you can call me back to the house. Hell, you just crook your little finger, and I will make you purr.”
He was standing there, his breathing shallow, his eyes bright, and when she glanced down and saw the bulge in his pants, her forehead broke out in a sweat.
One word and she could be flying high. One word and this ache would go away. All it would take was one word. She tried to open her mouth, tried to lift her finger, tried to tell him that, yes, she wanted to make love. About a thousand times in a row. But no words came out. She just stared at him, taking a giant gulp when she realized she was too chicken or too stubborn to ask for what she really wanted.
“You’re missing out, Alyssa,” he said as he began unbuttoning his shirt.
No. No. No. She just wouldn’t look. The last thing she needed to see was his glorious chest.
Though she told herself not to look, she found her head turning back just as the last button came undone, showing off an expanse of hard muscles and taut flesh that had her drooling. How in the heck did a business guy have such an incredible physique? Pretty hot and tempting, indeed.
“It’s too bad,” Jackson said as he turned away, giving her an unhindered view of his beautiful back. As far as she could tell, there wasn’t a single piece of Jackson that wasn’t tasty and delicious. Yes, the perfect word to describe Jackson was yummy.
And she was pretty damn hungry right now!
“I’m just across the hall if you want me,” he said before turning back around and looking at her. “The door’s open and I sleep . . . commando.”
He disappeared into his room. She watched as the light flashed on, then she heard his steps on the hardwood floor. A few seconds later, his shower started, and she groaned. He was getting soapy and wet right now. She could slide against him so easily.
“How much am I supposed to take, Poppy? Really. He’s so not playing fair. I know what he’s doing, dammit. If I make the first move, he wins.”
Poppy was losing interest in her ramblings. Heck, she would lose interest, too, if she were the dog. She was sounding more and more irrational every day. But she had her reasons, and they were valid. They were! she insisted in her own head.
“It’s just that this . . .” She paused, trying to think of the word. “It’s not a lie,” she said defensively, as if Poppy were judging her. “I just haven’t told him. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
Alyssa could have sworn that Poppy rolled her eyes.
“A good night’s rest. That’s all this is about. I just can’t sleep on this bed. It’s terrible,” she grumbled as she sank down so she was lying on her back.
In reality, it was the best mattress she’d ever slept on, and she’d slept in some fancy hotels during her better photo shoots. The pillows and blankets were soft and heavenly as well.
No, it wasn’t the bedding that was causing her lack of sleep. When the shower shut off and the light across the hall soon went out, Alyssa had to force herself not to scream. He was climbing into his bed, naked, and now he was lying there. All she had to do was slip from her bed, go across the hall, slide beneath the covers, and he’d take over.
She closed her eyes, picturing him removing her pajamas, his hands sliding across her aching flesh, his mouth following his hands, those lips . . . ah, those lips could do magical things to her body. Then, when she was wet, ready, he’d slip inside her, fill her body . . . A groan slipped past her throat as she flipped over to her other side, her core pulsing, her heart racing.
Flipping over again, she punched her pillow and Poppy looked up, her ears high as she tried to figure out what in the world was wrong with Alyssa.
“I’m sexually frustrated, okay?” she said.
Poppy closed her eyes and snuggled a little closer, the conversation done for the dog. Alyssa really needed to make up her mind sooner or later, because this indecision was causing her far too much stress.
The smell of fresh biscuits and hot chocolate drifted up the staircase and straight to Alyssa’s nose. Her stomach rumbled loudly enough to wake her, and she found Poppy curled up in a ball at her side, better than any electric blanket.
“Do you smell that?” she mumbled.
Poppy’s tail wagged, and Alyssa took that as a yes.
“Oh, this could be bad,” she said as she reluctantly threw off the covers and got to her feet. Poppy whined and looked beseechingly at her from the bed.
“I know the bed is nice and warm, but I’m starving,” she told the pitiful dog.
Taking the world’s fastest shower, Alyssa dressed in comfortable clothes and made her way downstairs. It was her day off, and though she wasn’t going to admit it to Jackson, she needed it. Coming back and working three days straight had been a lot when she was just getting off bed rest.
However, if Jackson got even an inkling of what the shifts were doing to her worn-out ankles, he’d move her to part-time or, worse yet, start her maternity leave now.
Nope. She’d just suck it up. Maybe take a relaxing stroll around the lake about half a mile from his house. Jackson was a lucky man. Although his house was only ten minutes from town, he still lived in seclusion in the foothills. He had his own stream, she didn’t know how many acres of lush green lawns, and healthy, full trees. To her, it was paradise.
When she turned the corner into the kitchen, she and Jackson exchanged greetings, and she immediately honed in on what mattered.
“Something smells mouthwatering,” she said. She walked right up to the stove and found crispy bacon sitting on a napkin-covered plate. When Jackson’s back was turned, she swiped two pieces, gulped one down, and handed the other to Poppy, who was right on her heels.
“I saw that,” Jackson said with a chuckle, though he hadn’t turned away from the sink, where he was rinsing a bowl.
“What?” She did her best to inject innocence into her tone, but her mouth was full and she punctuated her question by licking her lips.
Jackson finally turned to face her. “Not only are you sneaking into breakfast early, but it also appears that you’ve stolen my dog.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She sat down at the table, and Poppy stretched out at her feet. The shrewd dog knew Alyssa would sneak her more treats.
“Of course you don’t,” he said with a chuckle. “Are you hungry?”
Was she ever not hungry during this pregnancy? That was the real question. Unwilling to seem too eager, however, she waited a moment before replying.
“I could eat. Smells good.” She was trying to sound bored, but since she was practically drooling, she suspected her act wasn’t entirely convincing. “Do you need any help, Jackson?”
“Nope. It’s all ready. Want me to dish you up a plate?”
“I’ll get it,” she said quickly. Though she didn’t mind being coddled on occasion, what ended up on her plate was too serious a matter to leave to a mere man. “Why do you do so much cooking anyway, Jackson?”
He paused while he set the platters of food on the counter. “I don’t know. I guess I just always enjoyed it. We had a cook at Dad’s house, and I discovered early that if I wanted fresh-baked cookies and bread, the cook would give me whatever I wanted if I helped her out. I just sort of began loving to cook.”
As Jackson spoke, Alyssa looked at the mounds of food on the counter and said hello to five more pounds. He’d made bacon, eggs, French toast, and biscuits, and he was now placing fruit, butter, syrup, and jams on the table. Just looking at all that made her feel fatter.
What to do, what to do? U
nable to decide, Alyssa took a little of everything and brought an overflowing plate back to the dining table. Even before her modeling days, with those constant breakfasts of a few berries and a skinny latte, she’d never begun the day with such decadence.
Waiting just about killed her, but she didn’t touch a single bite until Jackson joined her and shifted a piece of bacon off the table and straight into Poppy’s mouth. Only then did she pick up a piece of her own and begin nibbling on it.
“Good?” he asked.
“Fantastic. I wish I could cook as well as you. Maybe you can give me a few lessons.”
“The best compliment to the cook is a hearty appetite,” Jackson said. “And I think cooking lessons could be quite fun.” The way he said it had her heart racing again. Then he put two over-easy eggs on top of his French toast and doused it all in syrup.
She looked at him in horror as he scooped up a big bite. “That’s disgusting.”
“What?” He looked genuinely confused.
“You’re mixing egg yolk with syrup. Gah.”
“Your scrambled eggs touch your syrup. What’s the difference?” He went ahead and took another bite.
“There’s a big difference. My eggs are cooked all the way through. And I don’t dip them in the syrup. Or pour syrup over them. Some might just run off the French toast and hit the corner of my eggs, but that’s incidental.”
She did, however, love dipping her bacon in syrup. Yum.
“To each his own,” he said, scarfing down two pieces of French toast in no time flat.
She threw him a dubious glance. “I guess so,” she replied. But why quibble? It kept her from eating. The biscuits were buttery and flaky, just the way she liked them, and by the time she was finished, she knew she’d need that walk for sure.
“Do you have plans for today?” Jackson asked her as he sat back, his plate empty and a steaming cup of coffee in his hand.
She looked at it and sighed. She’d kill for a hot mocha right now, but she was doing her best to listen to her doctor and he’d said no caffeine.
When Alyssa didn’t reply—she was clearly caught up in java lust—he continued. “I wanted to spend some time together, Alyssa.”
“Doing what?”
“It’s a family tradition, but trust me, you’ll love it.”
His eyes were glowing with excitement, and she found that she did trust him . . . well, as much as she trusted any man. Which wasn’t a whole heck of a lot lately.
“I wanted to take a walk, Jackson.” Going somewhere civilized with him seemed more pleasant than hiking through the foothills, but she needed to burn off her two-thousand-calorie breakfast.
“You’ll get in plenty of walking where we’re going,” he assured her.
“I don’t like surprises.”
“Liar. I know you love them. I’m on good terms with your parents now, you know. They’ve filled me in.”
“You shouldn’t be speaking to my parents,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “We aren’t a couple, Jackson, just because I’m staying here. I know that sounds ungrateful, and I’m sorry, but I think talking to my parents about me crosses a line.” What were they talking to him about? She hoped that her mother and father weren’t giving Jackson any ammo to use against her. And she really hoped that her mother wasn’t giving him clues about the parentage of the baby. She still hadn’t made her decision about how to tell him.
“I think your parents are great. Besides, your dad is killing it as foreman at the oil fields,” Jackson said. “Anyway, since this is a small town, we all act quite neighborly. I can most certainly be friends with your parents.”
“I don’t like it.”
“Tough.” That was the end for him on this subject.
Once again Jackson thought he could win the argument. Well, she’d find a time when he didn’t win. But, as of now, she couldn’t think of a more valid reason that he should keep his distance from her parents. Even thinking it in her own head made her see that she sounded unreasonable.
“I need to call and check in with my mom, then we can go. Does Poppy get to come?”
Poppy knew they were talking about her, because she scooted out from beneath the table, still licking her lips from the bacon grease, and looked up imploringly at Jackson.
“You are such a faker,” Jackson said as he bent down and scratched the dog’s head.
Alyssa’s heart beat an extra few times when Poppy leaned her head into his hand, showing how very much she trusted him. If you really wanted to know a man’s character, a good way to find out was by watching the way he treated animals. He obviously loved Poppy and Poppy loved him. Dang it. This was just one more thing that stacked the deck against her.
“Yes, Poppy can come. She usually goes everywhere with me,” he said, not giving Alyssa any clues.
“All right, then, I’ll come. Let me get my boots.”
Alyssa took her time getting ready for the outing. He’d only told her they would be outdoors. So she dressed in layers—that way she could discard clothes depending on if this early summer day decided to be warm or cool.
On her way back down the stairs, Alyssa paused. Jackson and Poppy were waiting at the bottom, their eyes shining, both of them eager for their outing. When Jackson smiled, his whole face lighting up, she knew he wasn’t the same man she’d met a little over five months earlier on that plane ride from Paris.
She also knew she no longer had a valid reason for keeping the pregnancy from him. What she didn’t know was how she was going to tell him. Their truce would surely end, and she was finding that she enjoyed his friendship. What if telling him made him hate her?
She was in real trouble, because whether she wanted to believe in him or not, she now did, and she didn’t want him to suddenly start looking at her like she was a liar. Pasting on a smile, she descended the stairs.
The words were on the tip of her tongue, but when his arm easily moved behind her back, and his hand brushed her skin, she shuddered. She couldn’t say anything now, or their day would be ruined.
Soon. She swore to herself she would tell him soon. Preferably once she was moved in nice and safe to her new apartment where she would be able to escape his wrath if he was furious with her.
“Um, Jackson . . .”
Alyssa felt like the classic impatient kid who kept asking, “Are we there yet?” And she didn’t even know where “there” was. She’d already asked him at least three times now where they were headed, and he was remaining tight-lipped.
“Not much longer,” he said with a grin.
She hoped not. They were bumping along a gravel road, and it wasn’t her idea of fun.
“Seriously, I’m starting to get a little carsick,” she said, not wanting to put a damper on anything, but this wasn’t the best of roads.
“Here we are.”
They turned a corner, and Alyssa looked straight ahead to find a giant cliff and about a dozen trucks all parked with people milling about. And a lot of them were toting guns.
“What is this?”
She wasn’t worried he’d brought her here to shove her over the side, but even the most trusting soul would have felt a bit of paranoia when confronted with a scene like this.
“We’re going to do some skeet shooting,” he told her as he opened his door. Poppy was the first one out of the truck. She jumped down and ran gleefully toward the crowd of people.
“I didn’t think you were going to make it.”
Alyssa’s door opened and Camden was standing there with a Cheshire cat grin on his face.
“I didn’t know we were coming,” she said as she accepted his hand and climbed down.
“What? Jackson didn’t fill you in?”
“Nope.” She was now walking between Camden and Jackson as they strolled over to a giant contraption that was set up on the bumper of one of the large blue trucks.
Michael appeared and told her, “You’re just in time to give it a whirl,” and a shotgun was thrust into her arms.
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She was given a quick safety lesson, and she didn’t have the heart to tell them she’d been shooting targets from the time she was a little girl. No real Texas woman was raised without knowing how to fire a weapon. But she now understood Jackson’s secrecy about their destination. He probably thought she’d squeal, “Ewwww, guns!” and head for the hills—running like a girl, of course.
She was boiling over with excitement as a disk of clay was launched into the air. Taking aim, Alyssa shattered the disk, and she felt immense pride as a cheer went up. Another disk was launched and she knocked it from the sky, too. After a few more rounds, it was time to hand the gun over. Setting the safety, she then gave it to Camden.
“Hmm, another thing I didn’t know about you,” Jackson said with a laugh as he opened a can of Diet Coke and took a large swallow.
“You never asked,” she pointed out.
“That was impressive. I wouldn’t think a former model would know how to handle a gun.”
Alyssa glared at him as she tapped her foot. “Jackson Whitman, just when I think you are growing as a person, you make an asinine statement like that.”
“Okay, okay, I admit, I can be an ass,” he said with a laugh. “But I have to say that I like a woman holding a gun.”
“I like a man who knows it’s not wise to approach a woman holding a gun, especially when he’s being an ass.”
“Ooh, I like her, Jackson. She’s a keeper.”
Alyssa turned to find Spence standing beside her. Of all Jackson’s brothers, she was least familiar with Jackson’s oldest sibling.
“Damn straight she is,” Jackson said, and he flung his arm around her shoulders.
Alyssa was having too much fun to correct him or shrug off his hold. He’d brought her out here to be with his entire family. That meant he had to be changing, didn’t it? She’d already concluded that he was a different man from the one she’d met on that plane, and now she was getting to know him more. Was it time she stopped fighting this? Did she give them a real chance?
