“Well?” she asked when he failed to answer.
He shoved a shovel into her hands and grabbed a box marked with pictures of Santa in a sleigh. That infuriating eyebrow rose higher. “I assumed it was obvious. I’m getting ready to do some decorating. And later, some landscaping.”
She tightened her grip on the shovel. “You live in Vermont, McConnally.”
“Not at the moment.” He slung the box up onto his shoulder with the same ease with which he had imparted that devastating tidbit. Sass could feel her composure unravel right along with her temper as he headed off. How could he do this to her?
She followed him to the side yard. No way was he just walking away from this discussion. He stopped dead in his tracks and smiled. She followed the trajectory of his gaze and groaned.
“I assume that’s your daughter in the window doing the Garfield impression?”
Corrine was standing on the back of the couch which was even with the window sill, her feet spread for balance, her hands rested high above her head on the window, and her nose was pressed against the glass between the paper cut-out snowflakes adorning the window. She did resemble the Garfield doll that people stuck in the back windows of their cars. Sass quickly motioned Corrine down with a sharp movement of her hand and sighed when the gesture elicited no response from her daughter beyond a wave. “Yes. That’s my soon-to-be-in-her-room youngest child.”
Jacob waved back at Corrine and turned to Sass. “You do know that a child’s room is not the best place to establish as a time-out location?”
She stared at him. “Did you just say what I think you said?”
He nodded and repeated—verbatim no less—the information. So, she wasn’t losing her mind. Jacob had, for whatever reason, absorbed some of the current speculation on child-rearing. And speculation it was, at least when applied to Corrine. “What’d you do, catch last weeks episode of Oprah?”
He didn’t laugh as she had anticipated. Instead, his expression remained deadpan. “No. I missed that one. I had to run and do a signing.”
Was that regret she heard in his voice?
“I’ve got it on tape, though.”
She didn’t want him studying up on child psychology, looking at her children with the intent to love. She didn’t want him here raising hopes that had no point in existing, refreshing her grief, renewing her pain. She threw the shovel onto the pile, barely missing his toe. “What are you doing here in New Jersey, renting a house next door to mine?”
“Proving a point.” He turned and headed back to the car. Two pulls and several grunts later, he had a couple bags of lime in his hands. Sass held her ground as he strolled back, conscious of her children’s eyes upon her. They were effectively tying her hands. She couldn’t get into the shouting match she would like. She couldn’t grab him by the shoulders and shake him into giving up, and maybe worse, she couldn’t reach out and pat his delectable buns as he bent to carefully place the bags on the growing pile. He caught her eyeing his rear and the slow smile that stretched across his lips as he brushed the white dust off his hands was ripe with satisfaction.
Damn him!
His gaze left hers and focused behind her. His smile shifted from sinful to friendly. “Hi.”
Sass groaned as her son came up beside her. She did not need an audience right now.
“Hi. I’m CJ.”
“Hi, CJ.” Jacob held out his hand. CJ shook it with due solemnity. “I’m Jacob McConnally. I’m a friend of your mother.”
CJ looked up to her for confirmation. “Really?”
“Almost really,” Sass corrected. “Mr. McConnally and I were friends for a while but then we stopped.”
CJ frowned. “You had a fight.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
CJ looked between the adults, obviously searching for the truth. “When I fight with Joey, we always say we’re sorry.”
Sass wished it was that easy. “Sorry just won’t fix this, CJ.”
CJ’s smile faltered until Jacob touched his shoulder. “I intend for this sorry to fix everything.”
Jacob looked over at Sass. She wasn’t going to be as easy to convince as her son. That didn’t matter. If it took the next six months, he was going to convince the stubborn woman that he was staying, and that she could trust him with her heart and her children’s hearts.
A tugging on his pants leg drew his attention. He looked down to see a pint-sized angel trying to get his attention. When she had it, she gave him big eyes and informed him, “You may pick me up.”
There was nothing in the tone of the statement to imply that he had an option, or that he might even want one. He reached down and carefully fit his hands around an incredibly tiny rib cage. She was so light, he almost tossed her into the air. For some reason, he’d expected more substance to the girl.
She touched his hair, and she smiled a smile that could light an entire city. She reached behind her and shifted his hand higher on her back. “Like that.”
“I’m sorry.” He didn’t even know why he was apologizing except for the fact it seemed expected of him.
“That’s okay,” he was informed, “you’ll remember next time.”
From that he deduced he would be carrying Miss Corrine around quite a bit.
Sass caught his eye. He was relieved to see a bit of laughter was stealing the anger from her gaze. For awhile, she’d had him worried. “She’s just covering for low self-esteem.”
The whole concept seemed ludicrous when connected with the child in his arms. She exuded confidence. And audacity, he thought, looking into her huge blue eyes, shaped so much like her mother’s. He almost reconsidered his plan then and there. He did not want to be around when this one hit the teen years. He didn’t say that to Sass though. To her, he simply said “Uh-huh.”
CJ came up behind him. “I got the flowers.”
Jacob turned. In his hands, CJ had five packages of the expensive tulip bulbs Jacob had purchased. Some people ate when they were stressed. Jacob landscaped. He cut a glance at Sass’ face. Five hundred bulbs might not be enough to get him through Sass’ resistance. The woman looked damn stubborn.
“Where should I put them?” CJ asked, bringing his gaze back to him. Unlike Corrine, there was an air of hesitation about him, an uncertainty in his green eyes. Jacob knew that look. He’d seen it time after time growing up. The kid wanted to be liked. He ruffled the boy’s short blond hair. “Thanks. I was getting tired of hauling all that stuff by myself.”
CJ smiled. It was his mother’s smile, full of warmth and acceptance. It reached all the way down to Jacob’s heart. He could, he realized, really like CJ. The strength of his feelings was a surprise. He’d never thought of children as human beings that one either liked or didn’t. As shameful as it was to admit, even after all his research, he’d always thought of these two as appendages to their mother. He wanted Sass so he would accept them. It had been that simple, but now he got an inkling that his reasoning had been flawed. Accepting the kids wouldn’t be enough.
Corrine wiggled in his arms, anxious to get down and explore with her brother. CJ immediately took her hand and eased her around the shovel so she wouldn’t get hurt. He saw the love and pride in Sass’ eyes as she watched the protective move, and he began to see why Sass had bolted. Hell, he would have bolted too, had be been in her shoes. This was a family he was moving in on. Not a group of three with two having no say in anything, but three individuals. This was a living, breathing family. He’d never had one of his own, but he remembered dreaming about wanting one. He touched Sass’ arm to get her attention. “I won’t hurt them.”
The kids started a game of tag and then dashed over to their own yard to play on the swing set. Sass’ gaze followed them. “If you mean that, you’ll leave.”
He heard the anger in her voice, the resentment, and beneath it all, the resigned sadness.
“I don’t think so.”
She turned on him then, her hair belling out from her face in a rich brown sw
irl. “Why not?”
A lock blew across her mouth. He stepped closer, ignoring the way her shoulders braced. He brushed the silken strands away from her cheek, his fingers lingering on her skin. “It’s not my nature to give up on what I want.”
That his statement pissed her off was evident by the way she folded her arms across her chest and lifted her chin. Nope. Five hundred bulbs were not going to be enough.
“You don’t want me, McConnally. You want the woman who came to visit you for the occasional week of fun, but this,” with a wave of her hand she indicated her house, her kids, and her appearance, “is the real me. This me isn’t free, and this me isn’t easy. This me has responsibilities and challenges you’ve never experienced in all your forty-one years of your freedom-chasing lifestyle. And,” she jabbed her index finger into his chest, “you know what, McConnally? I wouldn’t change it for the world. I like knowing my kids depend on me. I like being obligated to them. I like my neighbors and my friends. I like being involved in the community. I like every single chain that ties me to this earth, because I chose them. The same way I’ll choose, someday, a man to share my life with me.”
He slid his fingers down the side of her neck, under her hair, the coolness of the strands a direct contrast to the heat of her skin. She quivered under his touch, her breath breaking on a tiny gasp. He smiled, stroking his thumb over her lips as he tipped her head back. “I’m not apologizing for the life I had before I met you.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
Yes, she had. With every touch, every generous gesture she’d made toward him, with the very effort she’d made to play the game by his rules, she had been asking him for something in return. It had just taken him a while to figure out what it was. “And you did choose a man to share your life with. You chose me. It’s not a deal I’m letting you renege on.”
She winced as if he’d delivered a blow and turned to check on the kids, closing herself off from him as if they weren’t connected by touch. Her fingers bit into the upper sleeves of her coat, making deep dents in the dark blue fabric.
“You say that as if I should find it comforting.”
“You should.”
“Right.” Sass looked at Jacob standing before her, the sun shining on his hair, lighting it with fire. She remembered waking up once on the couch with his arms around her. She remembered squeezing her eyes shut against the sun, dreaming that the moment could be frozen into forever. She remembered how much it had hurt when he had opened his eyes and drifted away. She remembered that she’d always known Jacob was temporary. “Well, I don’t.”
“Why the hell not?”
Corrine squealed. Sass spun around spotting Corrine immediately at her favorite pastime, watching the ducks. “Corrine, get away from the edge of the lake,” Sass called, not turning back right away. Needing a minute. Behind her, she could feel Jacob staring at her. She took a breath and blinked back her tears. Hiding from the truth didn’t change it. Her first marriage had taught her that. “Because you won’t stay.”
“You’re wrong.”
“No, I’m not. As soon as you discover the reality the pipe dream you’re chasing turns into, you’ll be gone.”
She heard him move as the breeze sighed around them. His hands, large and heavy, settled on her shoulder. Dead leaves crunched beneath his feet. His big body pressed against her back. His cheek brushed her hair as softly as his lips brushed her ear and he whispered, “Take a chance on us.”
Take a chance. Take a chance.
Temptation threaded with her heartbeat, ripping another layer from her soul. Behind her, Jacob stood, six-foot-three of nothing but pure masculinity. In front of her, her children laughed and frolicked. She’d stolen their laughter for a time when she’d divorced their father. She’d made herself a promise that she’d never do it again. She stepped out of his arms. “I can’t.”
Chapter Six
Laughter, cheers and an occasional bark dragged him from his sleep three days later. Jacob yanked his pillow over his head, blocking out the sound and light, neither of which the remnant of his migraine welcomed. The noise persisted, drifting through the lingering effects of the painkiller. The sound was coming from his yard, which shouldn’t have contained anything louder than birdsong and squirrel chatter. He considered just letting it go away on its own, but he was renting this house, and he had a responsibility to the owner. By the time he got to his feet and had his pants on, his miserable mood had soured to foul. He cracked the blinds in the bedroom window. The light hit his eyes with the force of a hammer.
It took a minute for his eyes to stop tearing, but when they did, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. There, in the midst of his newly constructed flower garden, were two kids and what had to be the meanest-looking dog he’d ever seen. And they were digging. No, not digging, he corrected himself—excavating. CJ, obviously the foreman of this operation, pointed to a spot. The dog, which was hunkered down, every muscle tight in its body, ready to pounce, sprang into action. In a flurry of paws moving too fast to see, the dog had dirt flying. Corrine, squatting down with her back to him, jumped up and reached into the resulting hole. Jacob held his breath, afraid the dog’s nails would cut her tiny arm.
He should have known better. Over the last few days he had noticed CJ had a flair for organization and detail. The minute Corrine had moved, he’d touched the dog, which had immediately resumed its hunched, just-give-me-the-signal position. Only this time, there was an ear-to-ear grin on its narrow face. There was no doubt about it. The dog was having a high old time undoing all his hard work of the last two days.
A muffled sound of victory from Corrine caught his attention. She held something above her head. She yelled again and waved it about. It was a tulip bulb. One of his carefully selected, ridiculously expensive tulip bulbs. The edges of his temper began to unravel. The last thread went when Corrine calmly passed the bulb to the dog who gave it a good crunch before CJ held out his hand for it. Jacob didn’t wait to see what torture the boy put the bulb through. He spun on his heel, grabbed a sweatshirt and headed for the front door. It was time those kids learned some limits. Firm, clear, important limits.
Jacob got to within two feet of the trio without being noticed. He looked at the black dog, and his lip curled a bit. Some watch dog. The mutt was too busy digging to guard anything, let alone two children who should have been under lock and key. CJ was the first to notice him. His smile was one of happy greeting. Not an ounce of guilt in it.
“Hi.”
“Hello.” The smile on CJ’s face shrunk a little with his terse greeting. Jacob shoved aside the niggle of guilt and reminded himself that he was in the right, and the kids needed a lesson. “Do you mind telling me what exactly you’re doing?”
Corrine bounced to her feet. “We’re waking ‘em up.”
She tossed a bulb to the dog. Jacob winced as the dog sunk its teeth into the bulb. That was one flower that wasn’t ever waking up again. “Excuse me?”
CJ put his arm around the dog who snuffled his ear. His hand appeared very white against the dog’s black coat. “Mom told us you were putting the flowers to bed now, so they would get their rest for spring.”
“They can’t be pretty and grow until they waked up.” Corrine explained, taking the bulb back. She frowned at the crushed mess in her grubby hands. “They’ve slept a long time. It’s wake-up time.”
Obviously her highness was displeased with her subject’s perceived laziness.
Jacob pinched the bridge of his nose, battling a sweep of pain. “Am I to understand that you’ve destroyed my garden trying to wake up my flowers?”
CJ let go of the dog and put his hands on his narrow jean-clad hips. His expression was superior. His tone patronizing. “Don’t be silly. Spring isn’t until March twenty-one.”
Well that certainly cleared that up. Jacob pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead and rubbed, trying to ease the pressure there so he could think. He made a grab for the flower bulb
in Corrine’s hand. He needed it to illustrate his point. There was a sharp blow, and when he looked down, the dog had his hand between some fierce-looking teeth. There was no mistaking the intent in the dog’s close-set eyes or loud snarl. If he twitched, his hand was pulp.
“Licorice, no!” CJ cried.
Licorice’s snarls only grew louder.
“You’re not allowed to touch us,” Corrine said smugly, immensely pleased to be in charge of a situation involving an adult.
Jacob focused on the dog. He couldn’t take his eyes off its face. Now that his first impression was gone, he swore that there was laughter in the damn mutt’s eyes. He narrowed his gaze. The dog narrowed its eyes, too. The pressure on his hand, however, did not decrease. “Is this your dog?”
“She lives next door,” CJ explained anxiously, grabbing the dog’s collar. “Licorice, let Mr…Mr…let Jacob go.”
Licorice paid him no mind. CJ let go of the dog and wrapped his arms around Jacob’s hips, hugging him hard, his face pressed into the side of Jacob’s stomach. “He’s my friend.”
Corrine was not to be outdone. She threw herself at his knees. “My Jacob,” she declared in a dramatic sigh. The dog released his hand and had the gall to wag its tail.
“We weren’t hurting your garden,” CJ informed him, still holding him tightly. Jacob had to admire the kid’s strategy. It was damn hard to work up to a lecture when he was involved in an expression of affection.
He dropped his hand to the boy’s narrow back. “How do you figure that?”
“I had to show Corrine they were still sleeping.” The look he slanted up at Jacob was full of older brother superiority. “She thinks spring is here.”
Jacob looked around his once level, well-tended garden. It was pitted and lumped like a basin after a spring flood. “Looks to me like you did a thorough job proving spring isn’t here yet.”
Jacob felt CJ’s start and guessed the kid was just now realizing the results of his handiwork. “We were going to put them back.”
That ought to be something to see. “Does your mother know where you are?”
A Bit of Sass Page 5
