Why? No, she wasn’t going to fall into the verbal trap he had just set. He wanted her to ask. She wouldn’t do it.
She’d ask Marcie later.
Wetting her dry lips, she watched his eyes follow the action. Her heart rate increased. He wanted to kiss her. She knew it with everything female in her. And already her body responded, her nipples tingling, and the first hint of dampness clung to her panties.
No matter how much her body cried for him, her heart felt the knife he had delivered. She would not go to him again.
Never.
After several seconds, his eyes lifted to hers. “You look good, Jenn.”
His voice held a husky quality, far too sexy for her just-proclaimed willpower, as it danced on each and every one of her nerve endings.
“You look good, too,” she said and meant it. He did. Too good. A desperate need to unplug the charge of electricity in the air had her reaching for humor. “Big,” she said, forcing a laugh she hoped sounded natural. “God, you’re huge. What do they feed you military men?”
He chuckled, and then surprised her by bending down and kissing the tip of her nose. “You’re as adorable as ever.” His gaze slid to her purse, where it still hung over her shoulder. “Going somewhere?”
Still recovering from the feel of his lips, even on her nose, had her temporarily speechless. The spark that casual kiss had created all but set her on fire. Worse, it created a tidal wave of memories.
Nights spent in bed, forgetting to sleep, lost in each other’s bodies, making love for hours on end. All the amazing things he had done to her, with her, and for her, poured from her mind to her body.
To think she had convinced herself that she hated him for running out on her, and leaving her alone. Yet now, seeing him again, she knew she had never stopped loving him.
For that she hated herself. She couldn’t—no, wouldn’t—allow herself to get burned again. She had learned to be alone. She did it well.
“Jenn?”
She hadn’t realized she had slipped into her own little world of panic and pain. “Huh?” Had he asked her a question?
Bobby looked at her purse, and her eyes followed his gaze. “Going somewhere?”
That’s what he had asked. “Oh, um, just going to the ladies' room.”
“Bobby!” Marcie’s voice reached near-scream magnitude in her excitement as she spotted him. Marcie was half running towards Bobby. Within seconds, she was giving him a bear hug of sorts.
Jennifer decided it was a good time to make her escape to the bathroom. She needed to pull herself together, anyway. If she didn’t find a way to calm her reactions to Bobby, she would never make it through the weeks to come.
Tonight, she would settle for a façade of detachment.
The bathroom was empty, and Jennifer let out a sigh of relief. She needed a few minutes to herself. For several seconds, she simply leaned against the wall and took a few deep breaths.
She needed a plan to toughen her resistance to Bobby. It scared her how easily she reacted to him. “No,” she called out to the empty room, desperation etching her voice. He was going to hurt her again, she just knew it.
Somehow, someway, she had to deal with him without getting all emotional again. The answer, no matter how she tried to will it existence, just wouldn’t materialize.
Sooner or later she had to go back into the bar, and face him. Better now than later so she could make her excuses and go home. Alone. And wallow in her own self-pity. Maybe in a big bubble bath. After that, she’d eat chocolate.
Yep, that was the plan.
Anything to make her feel better.
She pushed off the wall, not bothering to fix her hair or make up. Her plan had her feeling better. She wanted to get it into action.
Not giving herself time to chicken out, she pulled back her shoulders and reached for the door. Taking the stairs that led into the bar area, she found Bobby standing with one booted foot propped up on the ledge, a beer in his hand, and his full attention on her.
He pinned her in a heated stare. The intimacy of his gaze was had her desire to stay unaffected, already falling to the wayside. It drew a response from her beyond her control.
The way he looked at her was…arousing.
Because she simply couldn’t help herself, her eyes drifted down his body. Dressed in jeans and a simple T-shirt, there was something so sexy about him. It was an inbred sensuality he oozed. He'd always had that certain male something. Now it seemed more defined, closer to the surface.
He looked cool, confident, and in control. There was an added edge of experience and confidence time had delivered enhancing his natural assets.
She had always loved his body, but years of military life had turned him into ripped perfection. She wanted to yank his shirt from his pants and run her hands across his skin, and touch his chest and shoulders.
Even his short, military-style blond hair looked sexy.
When her gaze settled back on his face, his eyes danced with amusement. A slow blush washed over her face as she inwardly cursed her own stupidity. She hadn’t meant to be so obvious in her appraisal.
Forcing herself to cross the distance between them, she almost stopped in her tracks as he made an obvious, slow perusal of her own jean-clad body.
Somehow, she kept walking.
In the past, his boldness wouldn’t have surprised her. They had never been able to keep their hands or eyes off one another.
But things were different now.
She wasn’t his, and he wasn’t hers. Yet, there was no mistaking the look in his eyes, as if he wanted to strip her naked and do all the things he knew pleased her.
Oh, and he indeed knew exactly the right things to get her hot.
The message in his gaze was so direct it felt as if he actually touched her. Her first instinct was to bolt straight for the door. Reason, however, told her she had to start dealing with him now or he would keep her in turmoil the entire time he was here.
Besides, she knew Bobby well enough to know she needed to make a graceful exit. Anything too extreme would only ensure he followed.
She slipped back onto her barstool and took a sip of her margarita before she met his gaze again. When she looked up he was still watching her, his eyes dark and guarded. Quickly, she averted her gaze, needing to keep her emotions hidden from him.
“Your hair has gotten longer,” he said, pulling a silky strand between his fingers. It was a gesture a lover would make.
For some unknown reason, anger rushed over her. Maybe because every time he touched her, she melted. She didn’t want to hurt any more than she already had over Bobby.
He had lost his right to touch her that way—or any other way, for that matter. “Don’t,” she said flatly.
She stared at her glass, but he stared at her. She knew without looking, feeling the heaviness of his gaze. She knew the minute he turned away, taking a drink of his beer.
Pushing to her feet, she grabbed her purse, which was on the arm of her chair. “I have to go,” she mumbled and then called across the bar. “Marcie, sweetie, I’m taking off.”
Marcie shoved a strand of red hair out of her eyes and frowned. “So soon?”
Nodding, Jennifer made up an excuse. “I was up late last night.” Let him wonder why. ”I’m wiped out.”
He sat his beer down. “Can I catch a ride to Marcie’s?”
Jennifer glanced from Bobby to Marcie and back to Bobby. “You’re not staying with your father?” They had never gotten along, but still, to not stay with him was surprising.
He looked away as if he didn’t want her to see something in his expression. Seconds later, he fixed her in a direct, seemingly unaffected stare. “I’m staying with Marcie,” he said and offered nothing more on the subject. “I took a cab over here straight from the airport. Mark stuffed my bags in the restaurant’s office. I’m pretty wiped out myself. I’d appreciate it if you could give me a lift.”
This was so not good, but what could s
he say? To deny him a ride would be rude, and risk upsetting Marcie. “I suppose I can give you a ride. It’s on the way.”
“Let me grab you a key,” Marcie said to Bobby.
“I can give him mine,” Jennifer offered, eager to get this over and done with.
Marcie was being flagged by a customer, and was obviously rushed. “Oh, that would be great. Thanks, Jenn.”
So, as Bobby went to get his bags, Jennifer faced reality. Her plan to retreat to solitude and hide from Bobby was officially delayed.
How indefinitely, was the question.
Chapter Three
As Bobby followed Jennifer outside, he felt the rush of the cool breeze carried in by the bay with bittersweet appreciation.
This was his home, a place he found solace and peace. But somehow it had been lost to him. Just as Jennifer had been.
He loved the mild temperatures San Francisco was so famous for, the nearness to the ocean, and mostly, he still loved Jennifer.
Darting a quick look at her, he wondered what his chances of winning her back truly were. There was so much about his reasons for leaving she didn’t know.
Their first encounter had proven she still responded to him. She didn’t want to, but she did. And how could he blame her? She was simply afraid of being hurt, wearing protective armor that he would have to gently remove.
The question of approach had his mind racing.
How could he explain his state of mind so many years before? In his youth, his father had so easily convinced him he would be nothing more than a drunk himself one day.
He knew Jennifer. And he had some major baggage to overcome. She had a phobia about caring for someone and then having them leave her. Even having grown up with her, being a close neighbor and friend, he had struggled to earn her trust the first go-around.
Lord only knew he had spent long nights thinking about what a jerk he was for making her biggest fear a reality. Walking out on her had been wrong for so many reasons.
Her parents had died when she was very young, forcing her to live with Marcie. Not that Marcie’s family hadn’t treated her well. They had. Still, the loss of her parents at such a young age had made an impact on her ability to love freely.
“The black Jeep is mine,” she said, pointing.
“Want me to drive?” he offered, but his mind was still thinking through his plan. He would have to play the game right, and draw her into their connection both emotionally and physically. A simple explanation and apology wouldn’t win her back. No, he would have to do far more.
The way he saw it he needed to set off her temper, just so, and get her thinking and feeling. Inwardly, he sighed. He hoped he was right, because he didn’t want to screw this up. He wanted her back in his life for good this time.
“Do I want you to drive?” Jennifer asked in mock disbelief. “I remember how you drive.” She laughed. “Forget it.”
She popped open her trunk and he put his bags inside. Progress, he thought as he slammed the lid shut. Her joking around with him was a good thing. He followed her to her side of the door and pulled it open for her. “You always said you liked it when I drove fast.”
“That was…” she stopped. They both knew the rest. In the past, she used to tell him she liked him to be in charge in bed. She used to tell him he was driving.
She stepped around him, clearly mad that he had referenced a past bedroom moment. “Stop it!”
He laughed and gave her a mock salute. “Your wish is my command.”
The ride to Marcie’s was a silent one, both deep in thought, no doubt about the other. Wordlessly, their awareness of one another seemed only to grow in the small, darkened space the car provided.
The ride was also short, and Bobby was thankful. To stay in such a small space with her and keep his hands to himself was getting more difficult by the minute.
Part of him longed to pull her in his arms, and kiss her with all he had. Then, he would hold her, and tell her how damned sorry he was.
By the time she parked in Marcie’s driveway, and turned off the ignition, he was past ready to get out of the car.
Not that he intended on keeping his hands to himself. He just preferred to act with a little more control than he was feeling.
A little air would help.
* * *
Fumbling with her keys, Jennifer couldn’t manage to find the right one. She didn’t look at Bobby. It was enough that she felt him with all the fiber of her being. “Why don’t you just unlock the door, and keep the key? Marcie can give me another one.”
“Save me two trips. Get the door so I can grab my bags.”
Going anywhere with Bobby was a bad idea, especially to a dark, empty apartment. Not going would seem rude or scared. The absolute worst part was, she knew Bobby would know she wouldn’t want to seem either of those things. It made her think that he was manipulating her.
“Fine,” she spat, a bit abruptly, and shoved the car door open.
She unlocked the trunk, leaving him to grab his bags. The quicker she unlocked that door, the quicker she could be on her way.
Darting across the lawn, she headed for Marcie’s door, plotting her escape. Struggling to get the key in the lock, she lost valuable seconds. Bobby was on her heels as if he didn’t have huge bags to carry.
When she finally managed to get the door open, she flipped on the light switch, needing the safety of a lit room. With Bobby right behind her, she had to step inside so he could get by with his bags in tow.
In her mind, she planned her actions. The minute he stepped past the hallway, she would step back to the door and make her get-a-way.
It seemed a grand plan, until she heard the door slam behind her. She turned to watch him drop his bags to the ground directly in the way of her exit.
Suddenly, the small hallway seemed like a tiny little box. Their eyes met and locked. His held a predatory gleam. Instinctively, she took a step backwards.
With a smooth, obviously calculated move, Bobby stepped forward and angled her back against the wall. He rested his palms beside her head, his thighs on the outside of hers…touching.
His strong body encased hers, surrounding her with his potent, male presence. Memories of their bodies naked and the tenderness of their lovemaking urged her to touch him.
She both hated and loved his nearness. Her teeth came down on her bottom lip so hard she almost drew blood. Willpower came with hard concentration. Desire mixed with emotion was a powerful weapon against her defenses.
But why was he doing this?
What did he want from her?
And why did he think he could just walk back into her life and act as if time and pain had no value?
“What are you doing?” To her distress, a bit of desperation filtered into her tone.
One corner of his mouth twitched. “You know exactly what I’m doing.”
She mustered up a somewhat steady voice. “Unless you mean pissing me off, I haven’t a clue.” She glared at him. “Move.”
She reached out and shoved on his rock-hard chest. A critical mistake, she realized too late. Muscles flexed beneath her fingers, making her hand warm and tingly.
Touching her favorite part of his body was like pouring gasoline on a dimly lit fire. Instantly, her body raced with heat so alive she could hardly catch her breath.
Their eyes locked and time seemed to virtually stand still. Heat crackled in the air; mutual desire burned in their shared gaze. The past became the present as their bodies responded to the sweet memories of remembered pleasures.
His gaze dropped to her lips and then slowly slid back to her eyes. “We still make each other hot, don’t we, Jenn?”
His voice, a seductive whisper, stating the simple truth…No matter what their history, their attraction still lived.
Jennifer felt her control slipping away as if her fingers slipped from a ledge. She was falling. For him. Again.
She felt it as surely as she did the ache between her thighs and the tinglin
g of nipples. Grasping for some semblance of sanity, she yanked her hands off his chest. “You can’t just walk back into my life and expect me to fall back into your arms. It’s not going to happen.”
He quirked a brow in challenge. “You know you want me as much as I want you.”
Jennifer didn’t even try to deny the truth. She had always been a lousy liar. Her defense mechanism lashed out at him. “Funny, I don’t remember you being so damned arrogant.”
He smiled wolfishly. “I’m confident, not arrogant.” He dipped his head and nuzzled her neck. Surprised, aroused, and too shaken to move, she sucked in a labored breath. His warm breath touched her ear. “Because I know how good we are together.”
He nibbled her lobe, which had always taken her desire one notch higher. And he knew it. Despite her best efforts to hold it back, she whimpered.
“God, I love how you smell when you get turned on,” he said hoarsely, his lips trailing along her neck.
For a mere few moments, she relished the feel of Bobby. His lips. His breath. His smell. The way he was big where she was small. He made her feel feminine and soft, and…sexy. Her lashes fluttered to her cheeks. But with the soft feel of lovemaking came memories, and pain.
A flash of him leaving her jolted her eyes open. She pressed on his shoulders as hard as she could in an effort to get away from him, but he was like a steel rod, unmovable.
She didn’t want to feel like this again. It hurt to be left alone. Soon he’d be off to the Army again, and she’d have an open wound.
Tears threatened as she squirmed desperately to get away from him. “Leave me alone!” She enunciated each word with biting precision. “This isn’t going to happen.”
Wrapping his arms around her waist he pulled her close. “Hey, hey, calm down, sweetheart. I’ll behave, I promise.”
She beat on his chest. “Just let me go.”
“Be still and look at me a minute and I will.” He delivered the promise in a soothing tone.
And God, she wanted to be soothed. He stroked her hair, and she buried her face in his shoulder, taking comfort from the very person causing her ache.
All The Right Spots Page 2
