Almost Perfect (17 page)

Flustered, she stepped forward, extending one of the cups. "Here you go."

"Thanks." Their fingers touched as he took it from her, sending a little jolt through her. He looked down at his cup, then back at her. "Well, we've come a long way, from drinking hard liquor when we were underage to froufrou grape juice just so we can follow the rules."

"All part of growing up." She laughed. "But it does seem strange."

"I feel like we should drink to something."

She longed to say:
To new beginnings. To starting over. To second chances
. But the words stuck in her throat. Was he simply aiming for renewing their truce, or something more? Was she ready for more? Casual dating,
yes
. But nothing about this situation felt casual.

"I know," he finally said. "To your art career."

"Oh no, don't jinx it!"

"What?" He frowned.

"A toast like that without a lot of wood to knock on would be chancy enough. But to make it with fake wine in plastic cups? No."

"Very well." He held his cup out. "To nothing."

"No. To everything." She touched her cup to his.

"Even better." He took a sip, then looked at the wine, startled. "Mmm, this is actually good."

"Surprised me too." She drank, enjoying the subtle blend of smoky, fruity flavors that slid over her tongue.

"See, you should have let me toast your career."

"When I have one, I'll let you." They crossed to the grapevine chairs that sat on either side of a little table. She'd added emerald green cushions to make them more comfortable, and filled the pots with new plants and flowers.

"So," she said, "how'd you get to be so good with children?"

"I've been home on leave enough over the years to learn my way around these little monsters."

She smiled thinking of the opening-night bonfire. She'd sat across from Joe, watching in fascination as the little girls climbed on his back as if he were their personal jungle gym. "They clearly adore you."

"The feeling's mutual"—one side of his mouth turned upward—"most of the time."

"Most of the time?"

"When Mom first bought the camp, I went through culture shock every time I came here." He stretched out his long legs, making the chair creak beneath his weight. "Try going from living with an all-male special-ops team to being dropped into a camp full of females who are constantly chattering, bursting into tears, or screaming. Why do little girls do that, by the way?"

"Do what? Cry?"

"No, scream. Jeez." He stuck a finger in his ear and wiggled it. "I think I'm losing my high-range hearing—which may actually be a blessing."

She laughed. "I have no idea why they do that. I suppose for the same reason little boys hit each other. Too much energy for such tiny bodies to contain, so it has to go somewhere."

"At least hitting is quiet."

"That depends on who's being hit."

He studied her, then looked away. "I, um, take it you never had children?"

"No." Her smile faded.

"Did you want any?"

She hesitated, not sure how much of her life with Nigel she wanted to discuss with Joe. But there didn't seem to be a good reason not to discuss it. "We wanted children very much, and had been trying for more than a year when we went in for testing. That's when they discovered the cancer."

"Oh." The usual curiosity paraded across his face, all the things people wanted to ask hut rarely did for fear of being insensitive.

"It was testicular," she said, answering the,, unspoken question. "And very advanced. In the rush to get Nigel into treatment, we skimmed over the subject of infertility, never really addressing our options until it was too late."

Joe shifted in his chair. "Would you have, you know… gone that route?"

She hid a smile at how awkward some men were when the subject of freezing sperm came up. "I don't know. If Nigel's cancer had ever gone into remission long enough, maybe. While he was ill, I didn't have the emotional energy left to care for a child. It wouldn't have been fair to create a life when I .didn't have the time or energy to nurture it."

"No, it wouldn't," he answered simply, but the words carried a wealth of personal experience.

She sipped her wine as she searched for a way to lighten the mood. "So, what about you? I assume you never married. Do you still want children?"

"Actually, the answer is 'almost' to the first and 'definitely' to the second, which is what caused the 'almost.' "

"Okay, there's got to be a story behind that." She ignored the little spurt of jealousy at hearing he'd almost married.

"It was all Fish's fault."

"Fish?"

"Major Thomas Jenkins." He smiled. "My commanding officer. He had a baby."

"Wow." She blinked. "That must have been quite a feat. I know you guys can do some pretty special stuff, but childbirth? And it didn't even make the news?"

"Smart-ass," he teased. "His wife had a baby. A little girl. You should have seen Fish. I'm talking total mush. He carried pictures around everywhere—a few we all could have done without, believe me." He grimaced in a way that let her know they were delivery room pictures.

"Men are such wimps."

"Guilty," he admitted. "But man, he was nuts over that baby. I started remembering how much I'd always wanted one."

Maddy remembered too. As a teenager his sentences had frequently started with the phrase: "When I have a kid…" The rest of the sentence could be anything from making sure the child knew it was wanted to the child not getting away with some stunt one of their bonehead friends had just pulled. Her heart ached on behalf of an imaginary child who would have been showered with all the love Joe was dying to give.

"Anyway," he said, "I happened to be involved with a woman at the time, and I started thinking if I'm ever going to have a kid, I need to get married. I found myself looking at Janice and trying to picture her as a mother."

"I take it the picture didn't jell."

"Not even close." He snorted with laughter. "Janice was smart and ambitious and a lot of fun. But she liked to party as hard as she worked, and believe me, she was completely driven in her career."

"What did she do?"

"Fashion buyer for a department store and a total clotheshorse. You'd have liked her."

"Somehow I doubt it," Maddy muttered into her cup.

"Oh yeah, I forgot. You like those used-clothes places."

"Vintage boutiques," she corrected.

"Janice was pretty much straight-line New York chic."

That wasn't why Maddy wanted to rip the woman's hair out, but she let it pass. "So, what happened?"

"I was smart enough to realize she would have been a disaster as a mother and I was determined enough that my children have a good home not to make that mistake. Like you said—hell of a thing to do to kids, bring them into the world, then ignore them. It's too big a responsibility to take lightly."

"Agreed."

Quiet fell between them and stretched out long enough to become awkward.

Joe looked out over the valley. "I really like this view."

"Me too." Maddy turned as well, but all her senses remained tuned to the man beside her, sitting so close she sould easily reach out and touch him.

"When I realized I was moving here permanently, I nearly took this place for myself."

"Why didn't you?"

"It seemed more practical for me to move into the rooms behind the office."

"You sleep in the office?"

"You didn't know that?"

"I assumed you'd moved in with your mom."

Which proved how much she'd isolated herself from the rest of the camp.

"No, the owner's house is really small. While I love my mom to death, I like having a little privacy."

A little privacy to do what
? All her thoughts from the first day returned, about Joe having a camp full of nubile counselors to pick from. She glanced sideways to find him watching her. "What?"

His lips quirked. "Do you know how easy it is to look at your face and tell what you're thinking?"

"I wasn't thinking anything." Heat rose in her cheeks.

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. "Well, the answer to the question you weren't thinking is no. I don't have wild orgies in the office with the camp counselors. They're kids, Maddy." He looked straight into her eyes. "I like my women a little more mature than that."

Her breath turned shallow. Was he saying he wanted to sleep with her? "Some of them are older than you and I were when we were dating."

His brows snapped together. "God, were we really that young? Ever?"

"We were. Which sort of proves my point that I was too immature to get married back then. I panicked and I made a mistake."

"I thought you said you wouldn't trade your years with Nigel for anything." A bitter edge crept into his voice. "But then, oh yeah, you loved him."

"Are you saying I didn't love you?"

He looked away without answering.

She sat, gripping her cup, trying to figure him out. One moment he was practically hitting on her, the next he was back to being angry over their breakup. How could she know how to act or what to say when he gave her such mixed signals?

"I need more wine." She stood and hurried inside. In the kitchen she braced both hands on the counter and dropped her head forward. Fear and confusion and a crazy hope that refused to die left her shaky.

A soft sound told her Joe had followed. Turning, she looked at him, and wanted him more than she ever had in the past. She wanted the wonderful caring, compassionate, yet still wounded man who stood before her. To love him and heal him and be healed in his arms.

"What are we doing here, Joe? What is going on between us? What do you want from me?"

Without a word, he walked to her, set his cup beside hers and took her head in both hands. For a moment, he simply stared down into her eyes, long enough for the barriers to drop away. Long enough for her to see the hunger he'd kept hidden. Then slowly he lowered his head.

A whimper escaped her when he covered her mouth with his. Her world tilted. She gripped the counter at her back and accepted all the pent-up desire he poured into her. Took from her.

He deepened the play of lips and tongue, taking her mouth as if starved for the taste of her, then tightened his fingers in her hair. Lifting his head, he stared at her again. "You want to know what I want, Maddy? I want you. I don't think I've ever stopped wanting you."

A part of her leapt with glee even as another part of her remembered how much her body had changed since the last time they'd made love. "I'm not the same girl I was back then."

"I don't want a girl. I want you." His mouth was on hers again, his lips molding hers, his tongue sweeping deep inside.

As if he'd hit some hidden switch, her reservations vanished and years of buried need ignited inside her. Her mouth went from accepting to ravenous in a flash. He pulled back, startled. She gripped the front of his camp shirt and rose up on her toes to keep the kiss from being broken.

With a groan, he pinned her against the counter, his hips tight against hers. His hands held her still as his mouth grew rougher. His tongue plundered, taking everything she offered and demanding more.

His erection rose against her soft belly, making her head spin with thoughts of having him inside her. Greedy now, she rubbed against him, wanting more, and wanting it right now. In answer, he swept a hand down the back of her leg and lifted it high against his hips. His hardness connected with her aching center and nearly sent her straight over the edge.

Panic jerked her back.

She slapped both her hands flat against his chest as she tore her mouth free. "Okayokayokay!" She struggled not to hyperventilate as spots danced before her eyes. "Ohmygod!" She saw his frown of confusion and laughed, although it sounded slightly insane. "I think I need to warn you… it's been a really long time since 1 did this. I mean a really,
really
long time."

His frown deepened. "Are you telling me to stop?"

"No! Good God, no." Another shaky laugh came out. "I'm just warning you I feel like a whole case of dynamite that's about to… go off."

A purely male smile tugged at his lips. "Good thing I'm rated expert in handling explosives."

His mouth descended again. Before she quite knew how, she was perched on the edge of the counter with both her legs wrapped tightly about his hips. His hands were inside the legs of her shorts and under her panties, cupping her bare bottom as he moved against her through layers of clothes. The sheer pleasure of it made her head fall back. Taking advantage, he moved to her neck, teasing her pulse to a faster pace.

Then his hips shifted, struck just the right angle, and pleasure shot through her in a blinding flash. Arching her back, she gasped in shock. Fireworks went off throughout her body, then she drifted slowly and ever so sweetly back to earth.