They kissed in a tangle of energy—natural and carefree. He poured his regrets and apology into his kiss, wanting to hold her until she forgave him.
Sara sighed against Jackson’s mouth, pulling away with a soft groan. She placed her hand against his mouth to block the sensual reminder that almost took her down a road that she was not willing to go. Her mouth ached from the absence of his warm attention. She bit her lip to snap herself out of the hypnotic seduction that Jackson delivered.
“Listen to your heart, baby,” Jackson pleaded.
“No,” Sara cried. “I’ll not let you play tricks with my heart.” She sat back and closed her eyes, wishing he was only a dream. “My mind. My thoughts. My plans. I can’t let you near to tear any of that apart,” she said. Her words came pouring out in a breathless rush that choked her with emotion.
“I think getting away from all of these distractions can help us put things into perspective.”
“There is no us!” Sara massaged her temples.
“Tell me that you felt nothing when we kissed.”
How she would love to crush him with cruel words. Vengeance snaked through her blood. After all these years, working to push away any thoughts of him, she didn’t relish now slipping back into the same groove. On the other hand, she’d gotten over the shock of seeing him. Although she refused to admit that she looked forward to him popping up with his pleas, she wasn’t altogether sure what she wanted.
“Fine, you have this weekend to unburden your soul.” She surrendered, wondering if she’d committed to making the biggest mistake. “Let’s get one thing straight, though. Don’t think that you’re going up there to create some love shack with me. I’m working. You’re obviously not. There will be no kissing. No coppin’a feel. Don’t even think that our bodies will be touching.” There was no chance that he’d weakened her resolve. She could get through this weekend.
“As you wish.” Jackson looked out the window toward his car. “I’m going to have to go to the hotel to pack. Didn’t quite expect a minitrip,” he explained.
“I have to go home, also. Meet me at my place.”
When he didn’t answer, Sara shifted her gaze to his face. “Don’t worry, I won’t take off without you…maybe.”
Jackson bent his tall frame to look at her through the window. “I’ll track you down, if you don’t show up.”
Sara saluted him. Then she drove off, enjoying his lingering cologne in her car. What would have been a normal work assignment for an article she had to write now had the potential to turn into a weekend of unexpected adventure.
At home, the magnitude of her decision hit her. Too late to second-guess. Now, she was wired.
Just like that, she replaced the clothes that she would’ve taken. In addition to a blouse and skirt for the interview, she threw in a pair of low-rider jeans, spaghetti-strapped tank top and a skimpy bikini panty set. She had no plans to let him seduce her. She merely wanted to remind him with a touch of harmless flirtation of what he’d missed before he headed back to his blue-blood family.
An hour later, Jackson called to let her know he was in the parking lot. She met him near her car, where Jackson already waited with a large duffel bag at his side.
“It’s about an hour, hour-and-a-half drive. Do you want to eat on this side of town?” Sara inquired.
“I can hold out, if you want to get there before it’s too late.” Jackson pulled out a chocolate bar, unwrapped a portion and bit almost half of its length. His cheek bulged, as he chewed and hummed to the beat of the song playing on the radio.
Sara stared at the chocolate and then at Jackson. Her mouth watered at the sight of the strand of caramel flipped over the peanut-and-nougat filling. She sniffed the scent of the chocolate, hoping that her imagination filled in to pacify her taste buds.
It didn’t.
“Would you like a bite of my candy bar?” Jackson asked with childlike innocence.
“Yes.” She had no pride. Candy was her downfall. She only had to run her hands along her thighs to acknowledge their effect. But she’d count calories later. Right now, she wanted to taste that chocolate melting in her mouth.
Jackson held the chocolate to her mouth. Sara leaned forward to bite, maintaining a keen eye on the road. She bit tentatively, then stopped. “Is that your finger?”
“Yes, that’s to guide you,” he said.
“Well, that’s only a smidgen. Are you going to be stingy with your chocolate?” Sara asked, irritable at the delay.
“I know you have an addiction. I don’t want you to have a relapse, so I’m helping you.”
“What a load of crock! Move your finger or lose it.” She changed lanes, getting into the slower lane, even willing to get completely off the road, in case she had to fight him.
“Fine. Here’s the other half. Enjoy it.”
Sara took the bar without any guilt. Whatever! He’d have to pay with more than this to get back in her good graces. She made light work of the remaining piece, licking away the traces of chocolate from her fingers.
“I hope it was worth the next size of jeans you’ll have to buy.”
Sara looked down at her legs, horrified at the thought that she’d expanded exponentially with every bite of chocolate, peanuts and caramel. “You don’t have to worry about what I wear. I suppose your frame of reference is your BOTOX-injected bimbos.”
“I didn’t say that I didn’t like a woman that I could hold onto.” Jackson leaned his seat back and rested a foot on the dashboard. “If I recall, your butt was a good handful to grab onto when—”
Sara pinched Jackson on the arm to shut him up. He’d already swayed her mouth and stomach to be traitorous. She didn’t need much temptation for her brain to be swayed by his charm as well.
She returned to the fast lane and refocused on her journey ahead. The urban sprawl of Chicago was quickly left behind as Sara followed the traffic heading out of town to the northern suburbs. Extensive farmlands dotted the scenery, breaking up the encroaching suburban sprawl. As the line of cars and trailer trucks thinned, Sara clicked on the cruise control.
“Are we there yet?”
“Gosh, you’re annoying,” Sara snapped. Jackson’s repeated question during the last several miles plucked her nerve.
“It was my first question in a long time,” Jackson complained. He stretched in the confines of the compact car, showing his dismay that he couldn’t get comfortable.
“See that sign.” Sara pointed to a green sign at the roadside with the remaining miles. “We’ll hit a small shopping center that has a few restaurants before we go to the hotel.”
“Five miles. Guess I’ll live until then,” he grumbled.
Sara ignored him. She also needed to stretch, but hated stopping on the way. Delaying their arrival meant a longer stretch of time in close confines next to Jackson.
As she approached the shopping area, the traffic grew thick. Maybe there was an accident, although she didn’t see any emergency lights. Carefully, she melted into the bumper-to-bumper traffic meandering into the town of Blue Hills, her final destination.
Another hour passed before they were seated in a small, family-owned restaurant. With only three restaurants in the center of town, Sara considered herself lucky to get in at all. Scores of pedestrians milled through the streets and loitered in front of tiny storefronts. She chose a local home-style restaurant, over a familiar restaurant chain.
“I hope service is fast,” Jackson whispered behind her when the hostess led them to their table.
Sara nodded, not too pleased with their table, which was located near the doors of the bustling kitchen. The alternative was to choose another restaurant or wait for a better situated table, which translated to another lengthy wait. Sara swallowed her protest. A glance over at the other patrons didn’t reveal anything in particular as to why the town was overrun with such a crowd.
“May I take your order?” a uniformed, young girl asked.
Sara gave her order
and Jackson piped up soon after with his hefty-man selection. Not able to squelch her curiosity, Sara turned to the waitress. “Why is it so crowded?”
“Every year at this time, lots of hikers and their families head to Wisconsin. They stop in our town for the pie-eating contest before making the long haul. Ten years ago, this contest started the weeklong celebration of the town’s birthday. You came at the right time.”
“What kind of pie?” Jackson asked, with a wide grin, while rubbing his hands together.
“You’ve a choice of cherry, peach or apple.” The waitress clearly was ready to launch into the town’s pie-eating history.
“What’s the prize?”
Sara shifted her gaze from the waitress to Jackson, wondering what was his sudden interest in pies.
“It’s twenty-five dollars to enter and the prize is two hundred. We don’t make too much money from it. It’s sort of tradition. We give any remaining money to the little retirement village in town.”
“That’s very nice of your city.” Sara tapped Jackson’s hand. “Why don’t you enter?”
“Me? I don’t eat pies.”
“But it’s for a good cause,” Sara urged, knowing his addiction to desserts.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Wimp,” she teased.
“I’ll do it, if you do it.”
“I’m on business.” Sara raised an eyebrow.
“I’m here for pleasure.”
The waitress giggled. “Oh, I can’t wait to tell my manager about this. His mother started the contest.” The girl hurried off before Sara could stop her.
“I don’t want to eat any pies.” She glared at Jackson.
“Neither do I. We’ll both participate in this crazy endeavor and do our part to contribute to the community.”
Sara shook her head, but already admitted defeat as she saw only determination in Jackson’s face. She ate her meal without contributing much conversation. Jackson asked lots of questions, but as long as he didn’t cross into personal territory, she was fine answering them.
“How was your steak?” Jackson asked, when she set down her fork.
“A bit tough, but the potatoes were delicious,” Sara replied. Her stomach was more than satisfied with the large portions. All she wanted to do was unsnap her jeans and lay across her bed. She stifled a yawn. Now that the long drive after a full day of work was over and she’d eaten, her energy leaked from her limbs, making them feel like Silly Putty.
“Looks like you’re ready to crash. Let’s get out of here.”
“No argument from me.”
They headed over to the small, three-story hotel where Sara had made her reservation. The parking lot barely had any empty spaces. A steady flow of people walked into the small building.
“I don’t have a reservation. And with all of these people, I probably won’t get one,” Jackson said as he approached the front desk.
Sara had forgotten that tiny detail when she agreed to let him tag along. While Jackson inquired about room availability, she handed over her credit card and proceeded with her check-in process.
“Looks like I’m out of luck with a room,” Jackson announced.
“At least for now. Folks won’t leave here until Monday,” the hotel clerk explained.
“Is there anywhere in town that I could get a room?”
The hotel clerk shook his head, scratching his bald spot. “Sometimes folks in town may rent out rooms, but you’d have to go down to Dawson’s bar and look on the board.”
Jackson turned to Sara and raised an eyebrow.
Her sorors teased her that she took so long to get a clue. It wasn’t until Jackson stared—or maybe glared—at her that she realized what he wanted. “Oh, no, you can’t stay with me.”
“Should I go sleep in the car?”
“That would be best.” She didn’t care if she was being harsh. He’d invited himself.
“Ma’am, our evenings get a bit cool. Now the day is hot and muggy, but once that sun sets, then you’ll be shivering,” the hotel clerk added.
“Fine.” Sara couldn’t believe this current mess. In a small room with only double beds available, she had to share three nights with this man. Her pulse spiked at the thought. “You’d better grab an extra key, in case I get the urge to lock you out.” She headed for the elevator without looking at him.
When the elevator doors closed, Jackson turned to her.
“Don’t say a word,” she warned.
“I was only going to say that I’ll be the perfect gentleman.”
Sara grunted. “Like you were in the car.”
“You kissed me first at the party, if I recall. And I didn’t protest.”
Sara opened the door and stared at the furniture arrangement with dismay. In the middle of the room was one queen-sized bed.
“They obviously made a mistake,” she said with a little panic. She hurried to the phone and dialed the front desk. After a few minutes, she put the phone down in defeat.
“I take it that we’ll be spooning. I like to sleep on the left side…and in the nude, if you remember.”
Chapter 4
Sara walked over to the side of the bed, staring down at the floral-printed comforter. One bed for them to share. Her mind had difficulty wrapping around that reality.
What had she done? She should’ve let him go home, while she went on this trip by herself. And now, she’d actually agreed that he could stay in her room. Maybe the next town had available hotel rooms.
She trailed her hand toward the pillow with its ruffled edges. The room screamed romantic interlude. Rose, pink and coral hues covered the walls. Floral patterns were reserved for the linens. Even the ceramic pieces had a whimsical style. Sara surmised that the room was part of a universal conspiracy to entice and keep lovers romantically occupied.
“Hey, what’s on your mind?” Jackson nudged her arm. “Looks like you’ve got the gears cranking at full speed. I promise to be the perfect gentleman. I know this is hard for you.”
Sara couldn’t answer. Her throat ached with dryness, as if she’d run through a desert at high noon. His claim to be a perfect gentleman didn’t quite mesh with the fact that he really did sleep in the nude.
Technicolor images flashed of Jackson naked, buffed and smiling. Her heartbeat accelerated. Her fantasy continued. She was also naked, waiting, expectant, like in the old days. The traitorous thoughts sent scorching waves of desire pouring like molten lava slowly through her entire body.
Her eyes lighted upon Jackson standing on the other side of the bed. He was busy adjusting his set of pillows. She blushed over her secret musings.
“Room seems a little hot,” she complained, pulling at her top.
Jackson shrugged. He unbuttoned his shirt and threw it over the back of the chair. “Feels good to me.”
“Don’t you dare get into that bed.” Sara raised her hand like a crossing guard on patrol.
Jackson froze in his attempt to climb into the bed. “What now?” His brow furrowed with open irritation.
“You’re going to have to wear clothing.”
“Come on, Sara. You know that I don’t wear anything when I sleep. I can barely stand these pants.”
Jackson always complained to her about wearing pajamas. He’d argue that all of his waking hours were spent in suits or equally restrictive clothes. In bed, he preferred his natural state. She’d preferred it, too, once upon a time.
“Fine. I’ll deal with you not wearing a shirt. But you’d better not take off your pants when you get under the covers, or you’re out of here.”
Jackson nodded and eagerly slid under the comforter. He reached for the remote and aimed it at the TV.
Sara readied herself for bed. The closer the time got to when she actually would have to get in bed, the slower she moved. Brushing her teeth became an examination of her mouth. She even stretched out her tongue, leaned closer to the mirror and searched for anything that didn’t look right. Anything to delay t
he inevitable.
Eventually she got to the end of her nightly routine. She wished that she could be as calm and relaxed as Jackson, who lay back against the pillows with a hand under his head, watching TV.
She emerged from the bathroom and walked purposefully to her side of the bed. “I’m not watching any sports. And you’ll need to put a pillow between us. Are you still wearing your pants? I have an early morning ahead of me, so you’re going to have to turn off the TV soon.” Sara slid down on her side of the bed, making sure to keep her thigh away from his. The edge of the bed was her moral guide.
She waited nervously to fall asleep. Several times, she held her breath to keep from shifting her position, or to still her restless limbs. Her sorors would never believe that she shared a bed with Jackson and nothing happened. But if he didn’t tell, she wouldn’t, either.
“I just want to see the business section of the news to see how much the stock market went up. After that I promise to shut off the TV,” Jack said. He opened the newspapers, completely blocking her view of him.
“Good night,” she said.
“’Night, Sarafina.”
Sara squeezed her eyes tightly shut, praying for sleep to come quickly. Otherwise, the night promised to be a long, arduous exercise of making sure she remained on her side of the bed.
Between the newspapers and TV Jackson had plenty to keep his mind busy. Even so, he couldn’t stop thinking about the woman in the bed beside him. He’d maneuvered his way into her business, and no way did his initial scenario include sharing a bed with Sara.
He wasn’t going to play the choirboy and pretend that he didn’t plan to seduce her with mind-blowing sex. Yet, if he didn’t know better, he’d wonder if her line sisters had planned this situation somehow.
He looked over. Only her back was visible. There was no discernible movement, except for her steady breathing. Lucky woman.
His woman. That was his goal. That was why he was here on this mission.
No One But You Page 4
