Promise of a New Beginning (Sweet with Heat: Weston Bradens Book 5)

by Addison Cole

  “I don’t know if I’d call it a relationship.” Savannah watched Jack as he filled a backpack with supplies. He was moving with less rigidity, and his mouth was no longer pinched. He glanced up, and Savannah noticed his furrowed brows—and how strikingly handsome he really was—only this time it wasn’t his features she was assessing. As she drank in his angular nose, high cheekbones, and strong chin, it was his words that she heard. I see a strong woman who’s also feminine, and the combination is…frustrating. His honesty was his most attractive trait, and a refreshing change for Savannah, who lived in a world of misrepresentation and deceit. Jack caught her gaze, and she held her breath. When he smiled, the deep worry lines that had traveled across his forehead disappeared, and Savannah let out the breath she’d been holding.

  She made a conscious effort to keep a little distance between herself and Jack. She didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, and she didn’t need to look like a moon-eyed girl in front of the others. She knew that everyone would see right through any efforts she made to hide the way her stomach fluttered and her pulse skipped when she looked at him.

  Despite the bright sun, the temperature beneath the cover of the trees was downright chilly. Savannah had just pulled her sweatshirt over her head when she felt Jack’s hand on her lower back. It could only be Jack’s enormous hand, as it covered her almost completely from hip to hip, and if she concentrated hard enough, she could still feel the heat of it against her bare skin. Now his hand slid off as quickly as it had landed. Savannah scanned the campsite. Pratt and Josie were packing their supplies, and Lou, Elizabeth, and Aiden were playing tic-tac-toe in the dirt. No one appeared to be looking for them.

  “You sleep okay?” Jack asked in a serious voice.

  She turned to face him, and her smile stuck half formed on her lips. That shadowed look was back.

  “Yeah. What’s wrong?”

  Jack’s eyes shifted left, then right, finally landing on Savannah’s. “Nothing.”

  Savannah heard, Everything. She touched his arm, and his muscles tensed. “Jack?” she whispered. “What am I not getting here?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing. It’s going to be a long day. You have what you need?”

  “Jack, I have everything. You gave us a very precise list. Please tell me what’s going on.” She looked over her shoulder, relieved to see the others were still busy. She turned back to Jack, and the fluttering in her stomach turned to a sinking feeling.

  Jack clenched his jaw. “Come here.” He stalked off to the edge of the woods. Savannah followed, her insides twisting with regret. He’s going to say it was all a mistake. It’s over. Darn it! When did I start caring so much?

  “Savannah, what we did last night—”

  She held up her hand. Hearing him say the words was going to be far too painful. Instead, she said it for him. “It was all a mistake and you want to forget it ever happened.”

  Jack’s eyes flashed dark. He hunkered over her and touched her elbow, turning her away from the others. “What? Why on earth would you think that?”

  “Isn’t that what you came to tell me?”

  Jack caressed her arm. “No. I wanted to tell you that what we did last night meant a lot to me. But, Savannah, if you don’t want this, please tell me now. I’m not the kind of guy who wants or needs a fling. Honestly, I don’t even know how to have one.”

  Savannah shook her head. She needed clarification. Her legal mind kicked into gear, and she wanted to know precisely what he meant. In no uncertain terms.

  “Exactly what are you saying?” she asked.

  “This is really hard for me.” He let go of her arm and ran his hand through his hair. “For two years, I never looked at another woman. Then you burst into my life all bossy and confrontational, and not only can I not take my eyes off of you but I can’t stop thinking about you. It took all of my willpower not to crawl into your tent this morning. And when you came out of your tent to join the others, looking so beautiful with that smile that gets to me a little more every time I see it, I had to suppress the urge to take you in my arms and kiss you until neither of us wanted to do anything but sneak off into the woods.” He looked away. “This is crazy. I sound crazy, and I know that.”

  When he turned back to her, his eyes searched hers, and she knew she should respond with something, anything that would make him feel less nervous, but she couldn’t find her voice. She was still stuck on I can’t stop thinking about you.

  “Look,” he began. “I was with one woman for ten years. I barely remember anything, much less anyone, before she came into my life. Then I lost her, and my world ended. It stopped, Savannah. Do you know what that’s like?”

  She shook her head.

  “And then I’m finally able to function like a normal human being. I can teach people basic survival skills, fly my plane, go into town…” He began pacing. “Okay, maybe it’s not normal, normal, but it’s functioning all the same. Crazy, right? That I’d let my life stop like I did?” Jack stopped pacing and crossed his arms, then uncrossed them and continued. “Anyway, now…I’m kind of lost again.”

  “Because of me?” She couldn’t really follow what he was saying. Was he unhappy about what happened between them or was he glad it had happened?

  He stepped forward and folded her in his arms. “Man, Savannah. Even this.” He took a step back. “Touching you in this innocent way sends my body into overdrive.”

  Savannah lowered her gaze to the bulge in his jeans and raised her eyebrows. I guess that’s my answer. She looked up at him and grinned.

  “Great. It’s really funny,” he snapped.

  He ran his hand through his hair again, and Savannah warmed at the nervous habit.

  “I have to go lead those people out into a dangerous forest, and while I should be thinking about shelter construction, rolling hitches, and sheepshanks, I’m thinking about your naked body pressed against mine. I can’t even go down to the stream without thinking about you and getting aroused.”

  Savannah laughed. She knew exactly what he was feeling, because she was feeling it, too. Just looking at him made her get all quivery inside.

  “Great.” He shook his head. “You go ahead and laugh, but it’s not that easy to hide it, you know? Not to mention that I want to kiss you so bad right now that I’m conjuring all sorts of dirty fantasies.”

  She used his bulging forearms for balance and lifted up on her toes, kissing him lightly on the lips. He grabbed her arms and deepened the kiss. When they drew apart, she asked, “Will that hold you over?”

  “No. It won’t hold me over. Now I’ll be like this all day.”

  She loved the way the muscles in his arms twitched when he was nervous, and the way he held her possessively, as if he couldn’t stand the idea of her walking away.

  “Well, I can’t exactly help you with that now, can I?” she teased.

  Jack began pacing again.

  “Why are you so twitchy?” she asked.

  “I’m not twitchy,” he barked.

  “Horny?” she teased.

  He stopped pacing and stared at her.

  “I guess two years is a really long time,” she said.

  “I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t know what I want. No. I do know what I want, but…” He lifted his eyebrows flirtatiously.

  “Stop.” She laughed. Inside she was jumping up and down, silently cheering, Yes! Oh, yes! She glanced back at the camp and noticed that everyone’s backpacks were sealed up tight and they were milling around, probably waiting for her and Jack so they could get started on their activities for the day. None of them were looking their way, though, so she doubted they’d seen them kiss.

  “We have to go,” Jack said.

  “Jack, I know you have a job to do here, and I don’t want to get in your way.”

  “You can’t get in my way,” he said with a cold tone.

  She felt her face fall.

  “I’m sorry. See? I’m frustrated and I’m going to be a j
erk to you. I know I am. I don’t remember how not to be.” He touched her arm, then dropped his hand. “I gotta stop touching you.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and then pulled them out quickly.

  “Jack.” She could see him working himself up into a frenzy. As an attorney, she’d seen it with her clients a million times. When they were pulled out of the attitudes they wore like shields, the feelings they’d hidden for so long wreaked havoc with their emotions and sent them into the same frenetic state.

  “I’m sorry if—” he began.

  “Jack.”

  “I don’t mean to—”

  “Jack!” she said firmly.

  He opened his mouth to speak, and she touched his cheek, forcing him to stop trying to talk and focus on her.

  “You’re not going to be a jerk to me because I won’t let you.” Startled at her own vehemence, she wondered why she’d been so weak with Connor when she could be so strong for Jack.

  He stared down at her with a serious face. “We’ll talk?”

  “I’m counting on it.” And so is my body.

  Chapter Eleven

  THEY BEGAN THE morning with a three-mile hike along the side of the mountain. Jack had talked for the first mile and a half about the importance of finding the right spot for building a shelter. He described what to look for in adverse weather conditions, showed them how to choose a location that appeared free of animal dens, and taught them the dangers of not being aware of their environments, warning them to look for branches in danger of falling and rotten tree trunks. When he spoke, his eyes were drawn to Savannah. She looked even more gorgeous than she had earlier that morning. Her cheeks were flushed from the steep incline they’d ascended, and her hair had gotten mussed as she ducked under branches. Jack was relieved that the guilt that had gnawed at him hadn’t returned.

  Jack led them back down the mountain flanked by Aiden and Pratt. Pratt had on another dark T-shirt and the same black tuque he’d worn since he arrived. Lou walked on Aiden’s other side, while the women chatted behind them. He’d been counting down the hours until Savannah would be in his arms again, and as consuming as that thought was, every time he looked at Pratt he felt a need to get through to him. His brooding eyes reminded Jack so much of his younger brother Sage that he couldn’t leave him to deal with his trouble on his own.

  Based on his experience with his own brothers, Jack was pretty sure there was no way that Pratt would talk about whatever was bothering him. He hoped that he might find a roundabout way to eke it out of him. He hated to see such a young man so angry all the time. It was one thing to have lost the woman you loved, but quite a different thing to just be angry at the world. He was mulling over the right approach when Aiden broke the silence.

  “When I grow up, I’m gonna be a survivor man, too,” Aiden said.

  “You can be anything you want to be if you work hard enough at it,” Lou said.

  “No, I can’t,” Aiden said. “I can’t be Superman no matter how hard I try.”

  “How do you know unless you try?” Lou winked at Jack.

  Pratt made a tsk sound.

  That was all Jack needed to know that Lou had hit home with something.

  “I guess…” Aiden scrunched his face and thought about the question. “I guess I have to try; then I’ll know.”

  “Good plan,” Lou said.

  “Pratt, tell me about what you do. Your registration form said artist.” Jack hoped his comment sounded innocent.

  Pratt pulled at the edge of his black T-shirt. “I sculpt,” he answered.

  Jack had heard his voice so rarely that each time he spoke, the deepness of it took him by surprise.

  “What medium do you use?” Lou asked.

  Pratt shrugged. “Mostly metals. Bronze, brass, aluminum, iron. I also do some smaller sculpting with clay and some wood carvings.”

  Jack noticed the hint of excitement in his voice. “My mother is a sculptor and a painter. I’ve always been fascinated by her ability to create fantastic things out of her imagination. How did you get into it?”

  Pratt shrugged again. “Friends, I guess. While I was at college, I studied on the lawn of the art building. That side of the campus had the most shade and the people were, I don’t know…more interesting.”

  “Than?” Jack asked. He heard Savannah laugh and glanced behind him. She was holding on to Josie’s hand and they were both doubled over with laughter. Elizabeth had a wide smile on her face, and she waved to Jack. He smiled.

  “Than what?” Pratt asked.

  “The art students were more interesting than who or what?” Jack asked.

  “Oh, than the engineering dudes. They were dolts. Repressed. You know the type. They think they’re smarter than everyone else and all that.” For the first time since they’d arrived, Pratt looked at Jack with a hint of levity in his eyes. “You’re not an engineer, are you?”

  Jack laughed. “Not anymore.”

  Pratt shook his head, and his mouth lifted to a crooked smile.

  Jack felt a shift in Pratt’s attitude, and he was glad to see hints of a nicer guy beneath the sullen exterior. “It’s okay. I studied engineering, but I went into the military after college and ended up in the Special Forces.” That year, Jack had met the men who would become like brothers to him. And years later, after Linda’s death, he’d erased them from his life just as he’d abandoned his own family. He’d even removed their numbers from his cell phone. “You’re right about engineering school. It’s pretty serious stuff. So did you graduate?”

  “Yeah,” Pratt said.

  Jack could not reconcile the young man with the black tuque pulled down low over his forehead with the other eggheads he knew in college. Great men, but they were highly intelligent, and not one of them had a creative bone in their body. “So, why sculpting? Did you dislike the engineering field?”

  Aiden pulled on Jack’s pants leg. “Excuse me, Jack, but what’s sculpting?”

  “I’ll let Pratt answer that.”

  “Well, it’s when you take something—like a hunk of metal or clay—and you reshape it until it looks like something else. Sometimes you have to use really hot fire, which is cool, and sometimes you can just use your hand or you use tools.” Pratt nodded. “Do you use Play-Doh?”

  “Uh-huh,” Aiden said.

  “That’s sculpting,” Pratt said.

  “Cool. So I can be a survivor man and a sculptor.” Aiden beamed at his father.

  Lou patted him on the head. “That’s right. You can do anything and everything you want, and if you need to learn how, we’ll find a teacher.”

  Pratt sighed. “You probably shouldn’t tell him that, ’cause it’s not really true.”

  “What’s not?” Lou asked.

  “That he can do anything he wants to do.”

  “I don’t understand. Of course he can. If you work hard enough, you can accomplish just about anything. Right, Jack?” Lou said.

  Two days ago, Jack would have agreed with Pratt. His future looked like it was going to be one of a reclusive angry man with no hope for happiness. Now, as he looked back at Savannah and felt a fluttering in his chest, he felt a glimmer of hope that he might not be held hostage by that anger forever. It was the strangling guilt that he wasn’t as confident about.

  “I think everyone should try as hard as they possibly can at anything they do in life. It doesn’t matter if you’re a garbage man or the president. Hard work pays off.” It had taken every ounce of Jack’s energy, his spirit, and his willpower to fall back from the public life he’d once lived and come to a place of solitude in order to suppress the guilt that surrounded Linda’s accident. He’d known the cost when he’d done it. As much as he wanted to disappear, it was difficult to turn his back on the people he loved. Now he wondered if he’d tried hard enough. When he told Savannah that before meeting her he’d finally been able to function like a normal human being, he was telling the truth. What he hadn’t realized then, and what was becoming clearer by the mi
nute, was that he wasn’t functioning like a normal person at all. He’d been functioning as an angry, guilty man who was able to deal with only a modicum of civilian life—and functioning was stretching it. Maybe it’s time to deal with all this garbage head-on.

  “I’m not talking about the ability to do what you dream of. I’m talking about society’s perceived value of what you do and the expectations of others,” Pratt explained.

  It sounded to Jack like he wasn’t the only one waxing introspective.

  “I know all about societal norms.” Lou patted Aiden’s head. “Some people think we’re rebelling against the system by homeschooling, but we just want Aiden to have a chance to learn more than schools allow. We want him to find his own likes and dislikes, and we want to nurture them through schooling. But there are even some parents who think it’s weird, so they don’t offer play dates and such.”

  Jack looked over at Lou, noticing the content look in his eyes and the way he carried himself without any false bravado—his shoulders a little hunched, his belly a little soft. Lou wore hemp shorts and a loose cotton T-shirt. He appeared very comfortable in his own skin. Something Jack envied. “So why do it?” Jack asked.

  Lou put his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Why live in the woods?”

  Because I was too angry to live around people. “It makes me happy.”

  “Exactly. Aiden’s happy when his mind is fulfilled, so we’re there to help,” Lou said. He mussed Aiden’s hair. “What does Dad always tell you, Aiden?”

  “Always do what you love. Those who don’t like it don’t matter and those who matter don’t care,” Aiden said in a bored voice, as if he’d had to say it a million times.

  “I’ve heard that a million times,” Pratt said. “I don’t get it because, like, my parents are all over me to go back to corporate America and they do matter to me. There is such a thing as caring too much.”

  “My family doesn’t love what I do, and they matter more to me than, well, just about anything else in life.” The words left Jack’s lips before he could think to stop them. His family had reached out to him so often during the first few weeks after Linda’s death, and he’d pulled away—ignoring their efforts and their offers of help. At first it just hurt too much to see the people he loved when the one he loved most would never be with him again. As time progressed, the guilt of not seeing them wore him down and he was afraid to face them, but not a day went by that he didn’t miss his family. Before Linda had died, he’d spoken to his mother every week on the phone, sometimes twice a week. She’d tell him about her gardens or her latest sculpture, and he’d enjoyed those conversations. And Siena and Dex, his twin sister and brother, had just turned twenty-six in June, and he owed them a visit.