All I Want Is You (Kimani Romance)

by Girard, Dara

  “And I’m no pushover.” Monica took the phone from him. “Nadine, I’m cooking dinner.”

  “Do you like him?” Nadine asked.

  Monica paused, shocked by the question. “What?”

  “You heard me. JD. Do you like him?”

  Monica glanced at him. “I can’t answer that right now.”

  “He’s still there?” Nadine said with delight.

  “We’re supposed to be talking about dinner.”

  “Oh,” Nadine said with a dismissive tsking sound. “I only said I’d cook as an excuse to get you on the phone.”

  “Nadine,” Monica said with warning.

  The older woman giggled like a naughty girl. “He’s everything I told you and more, right?”

  Monica decided to change the topic. “I heard that you weren’t feeling well.”

  “Just a little bug. Don’t worry about me. It’s you two I’m concerned about.”

  “Don’t be. We’re fine.”

  “So you do like him?”

  Monica sighed and glanced at JD. He smiled as if he knew—and expected—he would be the subject of their conversation. “Yes.”

  “How much?”

  “Nadine!”

  “All right, I’ll find out later. I’m just glad you two are getting along. At first I was afraid, because—”

  JD snatched the phone away from her. “Gran, are you talking about me?” He paused and wiggled his brows at Monica. “I can tell because you’re making her blush.”

  Monica held out her hand. “Give me the phone.”

  He sat down. “We’re getting on just fine,” he said, pulling Monica down on his lap.

  She tried to wiggle free but JD wrapped his arm tighter around her waist, trapping her. “No, we get on like two peas in a pod.” He held the phone to his chest. “Gran wants to know if we want blackberry or pecan pie.”

  Monica glared at him.

  He nodded as if she’d given him an answer and returned to the phone. “Make both. We’ll decide when you get here.” He stiffened and his voice suddenly changed. “What do you mean you’re not coming?”

  JD loosened his hold on Monica and she jumped off his lap, yanked the phone from him and said, “Nadine, you’re coming tomorrow.” JD reached for the phone, but Monica held out her hand and said in a low warning tone, “Remember, I know how to use a rifle.”

  “What?” Nadine said, alarmed.

  “I wasn’t talking to you,” Monica said with a superior smile while JD returned to his seat.

  “Good. I’ll see you two in a couple of weeks.”

  “A couple of weeks? Why?”

  “I just need some more time to get over this bug, and then it takes time for me not to still be contagious, so I should be all better by then. In the meantime you two can get to know each other a little more.”

  Monica sighed. Her friend’s matchmaking effort was as subtle as a slingshot. “Nadine—”

  “Talk to you later,” she said then hung up.

  Monica disconnected the phone then shook her head. “You’re right,” she said, handing him the phone. “Your grandmother is stubborn. She’s not coming until Saturday—two weeks from now. She says she’ll feel better then.”

  JD scratched his chin, concerned. “Maybe I should visit her tomorrow.”

  “I think she’s trying to give us more time alone. Don’t worry. If she was seriously ill she would tell us, but she sounded like her old self on the phone.”

  JD nodded. “You’re right.”

  “What did you play for her?” Monica asked, wanting to remove the worried expression that lingered in his eyes.

  JD stretched his arms the length of the couch. “The guitar.”

  Monica looked at him, surprised. He seemed like the type of man who’d spend years learning classical piano or the violin, not an earthy instrument like the guitar.

  He caught her expression and grinned. “Yes, that’s what I thought you’d think. I don’t seem the type, I know. My father—” He stopped. “Anyway I don’t play as much as I used to. I only did it because it makes Gran happy. She keeps one in the house.”

  “I’d love to hear you play.”

  JD opened his mouth and at first Monica was sure he’d say no. Then he slowly nodded his head as if coming to a decision. “Perhaps one day.”

  Perhaps wasn’t yes, and Monica knew there were still parts of his life he was hesitant to share with her. They were still strangers, and that brief interlude upstairs hadn’t changed that. She suddenly felt awkward, not knowing what to do next. Dinner was over and she had no reason to stay. She began to gather her dishes.

  “No,” JD said. “Leave them for later.”

  “But—”

  JD patted the space beside him. “Just sit here with me.”

  Monica hesitated then sat, and JD rested his arm around her shoulders. It felt solid and warm and she began to relax and watch TV. She’d never done something this simple with a man before. She was used to performances. With Delong she was his audience. He was set on impressing her with flights in private jets, helicopter rides, fine dining on balconies that overlooked exotic locales, expensive boating trips, and she’d reward him with her smiles and listen to him as if he was the most important person in the world. But not JD.

  He didn’t seek out to dazzle her, and she didn’t have to perform for him. No coy laughs or sexy flips of her hair. He liked her company, he’d said. He thought she was talented and smart and brave. He made her feel beautiful in a completely different way.

  “Oh, I almost forgot,” JD said then reached into his pocket. He pulled out some brightly colored stones—smoothly polished and beautiful—and placed them in her lap. “For inspiration.”

  Monica looked down and wanted to laugh. She’d once had a tycoon do the same gesture, except he’d offered her sapphires and diamonds. But what JD had given her meant much more.

  She lifted a purplish stone. “They’re beautiful. Where did you find these?”

  “There’s a creek two miles from here, and I saw them and thought you might like them. My father and I used to—” He bit his lip. “I hope you’ll find them useful.”

  “I will. Thank you.”

  JD flashed a brief smile then returned to watching TV.

  Monica knew the next step was up to her. She could keep this relationship going or let it fade. He’d done his part with this offering. Now it was up to her. She took a deep breath then said, “Tomorrow could you show me where you found them?”

  His eyes met hers, shining bright with mischief and desire, and for the second time that day she felt as if she’d fallen into a trap. But his tone gave nothing away when he softly said, “I’d love to.”

  Chapter 6

  The next morning their walk was quiet, but Monica didn’t mind. She didn’t find JD’s quiet mood unsettling. It allowed her to bask in the morning sun, listen to stray branches snap under their steps and watch Baxter scamper alongside them. They came upon a worn path where they had to duck several times to avoid being smacked in the face by low-hanging branches with broad, untamed leaves. They were surrounded by tall willows, old oak trees and numerous pine trees.

  Suddenly JD stopped and pointed. “There.”

  Monica looked in the direction and saw a beautiful creek bed littered with colorful stones. She sat down on a rock while Baxter busied himself digging for something. She smiled at his efforts, took off her shoes and sunk her feet into the water. “Oh, it feels nice.”

  “My father used to—” JD stopped and shoved his hands in his pockets.

  Monica sent him a curious look. “Why do you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Stop talking every time you mention your father.”

  “I do?”

  She nodded.

  JD shrugged with nonchalance. “Habit, I guess. I’m just not used to talking about him.”

  He didn’t say any more than that and Monica shifted her position, wondering if she should push him to shar
e. But as the silence grew, she felt she had no choice. “When did he die?”

  “A long time ago.”

  The wall he’d erected around himself was firmly in place, but that didn’t intimidate her. It made her more determined. “That doesn’t matter. Time doesn’t erase the pain.”

  JD sat on a boulder beside her. “You sound like someone who understands.”

  “I do. I’ve lost people I loved.” Before he could ask who, Monica asked, “So how old were you?”

  “Nine.” He sighed then looked around him. “This was our special place. We used to enjoy skipping stones.”

  “What?”

  “Skipping stones.”

  “How do you skip a stone?”

  JD looked at her as if she’d suddenly spouted gibberish. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He bent down and picked up a small, smooth stone then skimmed it over the water.

  Monica’s face lit up. “Oh, yes! I’ve seen that done on TV.”

  “On TV? You’ve never skipped stones before?”

  “No, but it looks easy.” She picked up a stone and threw it. It sank under the water. Another attempt garnered the same result. She frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  JD laughed at her frustration. “There’s a method to it. It’s in the wrist.”

  Monica tried again and the stone sank once again.

  “I’ll show you.” He came up behind her and took her hand in his. “It’s the wrist action that counts and how you angle yourself.”

  His voice was neutral but his body was warm, making it hard for Monica to concentrate. His hands were big, but soft, and they slid down her arms then settled around her waist. He placed a kiss on the back of her neck.

  She spun around. “That’s not fair.”

  “Who said I wanted to play fair?”

  Monica held out the stone. “You’re supposed to teach me how to skip stones.”

  “I’ll teach you another time.”

  “You already have.” She turned and skipped a stone four times then sent him a smug grin.

  JD stared openmouthed then looked at her. “You little fake.”

  She laughed. “I can fake a lot of things.” She placed a finger under his chin and whispered. “Especially when it comes to stroking a man’s ego.”

  JD seized her wrist and pulled her close. “You’d better not fake with me.”

  “You’d never know.”

  “With me you’ll never have to.”

  She believed him and for a second pictured him naked, in her bed, his body covering hers while he went deep inside her. The thought made her temperature rise and she would have fanned herself if she’d been alone. But his piercing dark eyes studied her every movement, so she took a deep breath and smiled, as if she found his challenge amusing, then slipped out of his grasp. Monica sat back down on a rock and drew up her legs to create distance from him. “What else did you and your father do?”

  JD paused as if trying to adjust to the abrupt change in conversation. “Hike. He used to teach me dirty limericks.”

  “Do you remember any?”

  “No.”

  “You’re lying.”

  JD’s mouth spread into a grin, but he didn’t reply.

  “I’ll get some out of you one day.”

  “Maybe.” He sat down beside her, his back touching her arm. He wouldn’t allow distance to separate them, and at that moment she felt no need to move away. She knew and accepted that she would sleep with him. Not tonight, but some night soon. It would be a risk, but she knew she wouldn’t regret it. At her moment of awakening she heard the sound of the gray catbird and glanced up. “Oh, I’ve always loved that sound.”

  JD spun to her. “What did you say?”

  Monica hesitated, startled by the intensity of his gaze, aware of how close his face was to hers. So close she could see silver specks in his brown eyes. She pointed to a tree. “I was just referring to the sound of the birdsong.”

  “It was my father’s favorite, too.” He stood and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I never thought I’d be able to come back here and feel happy again. But I do, and it’s because of you.”

  “No, it’s—”

  He pulled her to her feet. “All my life I’ve been searching for something—something warm and wonderful and real, something I’d thought I’d lost when my father died, and I’ve finally found it again.”

  Monica shook her head, feeling uneasy. He was giving her credit she didn’t deserve. She wasn’t real. She was a fraud. “I think you’re exaggerating.”

  “Don’t argue with me,” he said then didn’t give her a chance to. For the next several minutes he kept her mouth occupied.

  At last she drew away, breathless and weak in the knees. “JD, I—”

  “I’m not seeing anyone, in case you were wondering.”

  “I wasn’t actually, but—”

  “Do you have a favorite restaurant where I could take you?”

  “JD, be sensible.”

  “Do you like flowers? You look like the dandelions type.”

  “Dandelions are weeds.”

  “Daffodils then.”

  She sighed. “You’re relentless.”

  He grinned. “Now you’re starting to understand me.” He took her hand. “Let’s go home.”

  Monica looked down at their locked hands. “You don’t have to do that.”

  JD blinked with a look of innocence. “I wouldn’t want you to get lost.”

  Monica shook her head, amused. “You’re a sly devil.”

  “And you’re not afraid of me.”

  “No.”

  “But something about me frightens you. What is it?”

  “Nothing.”

  He studied her for a long moment then whispered, “I’ll figure it out.”

  Monica only smiled. Not if I can help it.

  Going for walks soon became routine and a chance for JD to work with Baxter. However, one day nearly changed that. The three of them had gone for a walk, along the woods behind the farmhouse, and after strolling for about fifteen minutes JD realized Baxter was nowhere to be seen.

  “Baxter… Come here, boy,” he called out.

  No reply.

  “He must be busy trying to bury something,” Monica said, because the puppy loved to take twigs and bury them, just as he would if they were bones.

  “But we usually see him do it,” JD said, looking around. He gave a loud whistle and yelled, “Baxter, come here, boy.”

  Monica grabbed JD’s arm. “What if Drent got him? Maybe he was kidnapped.”

  “Kidnapped?” JD said with a sniff. “That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

  Monica shrugged. “You don’t know what people are capable of.”

  “He wouldn’t be that stupid. And if he is, I’ll knock some sense into him.” He halted. “Hear that?”

  She stopped too and listened.

  They both heard the faint sound of something whining somewhere behind them. As they walked toward the sound, Monica looked down and saw a gray catbird inside a bush imitating the whining sound of a puppy.

  “It’s not him,” Monica said, pointing toward the bush. The bird flew off.

  JD frowned. “Clever little—”

  Monica touched his sleeve. “Wait. I still hear something.”

  She searched around and then saw Baxter. Or rather the back of him. He was tightly wedged in a small fox hole, face-first. He had been pinned for some time, and they wouldn’t have heard him had it not been for the bird. It took some ingenious digging to get him out, and afterward JD gave him a long bath.

  “Little troublemaker,” JD said as he dried him off.

  “You’re well matched,” Monica teased. “Serves you right. You thought that being a foster parent would be easy.”

  “You don’t think I can train him, do you?”

  “I think you’ll try very hard.”

  And he did, but he q
uickly discovered that Baxter didn’t like squeaky toys. If any of them made the faintest sound, he was off running, terrified that the toy was real and after him.

  “I guess this is what first-time parenthood feels like,” JD said one day when they could not coax the puppy from behind a small space between a side table and side wall.

  “It’s going to take time,” Monica said. “Living with Drent and his horrid gang must have been hell. Remember, you said you’d be patient.”

  “I was wrong.” He finally got Baxter out of his hiding place and cradled him in his arms.

  Monica saw the dog begin to relax. “He likes when you hold him. You’re good for him.”

  JD shook his head. “He’s even afraid of his own shadow.” He picked up one of his dog-training manuals. “I must be doing something wrong. Maybe I need to hire a dog expert.”

  None of the experts JD hired—a dog trainer, a dog counselor and dog handler—thought they could help him. All three told him that based on Baxter’s earlier experience as a bait dog, he was beyond help.

  But JD refused to give up, and Monica admired his tenacity. When he finally hired a dog acupuncturist, they started to see progress, but not fast enough for JD. He decided to look at the situation from a different angle and finally hit on the perfect solution.

  “What have you done to him?” Monica asked when she met JD on the porch to go for their walk. She looked down at Baxter, who wore a doggie coat with two large pockets on the side filled with twigs.

  “I’m giving him a job. I thought of him as one of my employees.”

  “An employee?”

  “Yes. If I had an employee I knew was capable but who was insecure, what would I do with him? I’d give him a job that made him feel good about himself.” He nodded down at the dog. “That’s what I’m doing with him. He now has a job carrying the twigs into the forest. See? His tail is already up. He’s proud of himself.”

  “You did it. I’m impressed.”

  “So impressed that you’ll give me a kiss?”

  Monica leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.

  He frowned. “I expected you to be more impressed than that.”

  She took his hand. “I will be after your grandmother’s visit. Come on, Baxter is eager to go.”

  “You’ve cast my grandson under a spell,” Nadine said as she and Monica stacked the dirty dishes in the dishwasher.