Bending Over Backwards (14 page)

Building a new life. He supposed some unconscious drive had pushed him to accumulate things from the past in general. Giving them a place, and giving himself one in the process. A new home.

His apartment in the city hadn’t been a home. It was where he slept when he wasn’t working. He’d entertained there a few times, brought women home, but that was about it. It was sparse, lonely. No wonder he’d preferred work.

Looking out at the beach, he felt no need to return there. Picking up his phone, he made a decision and called Neal’s number.

“Hey, bud, how’s things?” Neal answered, clearly having seen his number on the caller ID. “Changing your mind about coming back? It’s not too late.”

Neal apparently hadn’t finalized his termination.

“No, I don’t think so. I’m remembering a lot more these days but I think I’m done. I won’t be back. Not to the firm, not to the city.”

Neal was quiet for a moment. “We took your resignation as conditional—are you sure? We could really use you on board. Things are picking up, getting better, but there are some challenges, and we need our best.”

Leo’s smile at the warm welcome offered him faded. Neal acted like a friend, but only to the extent that they worked together. In the end, Leo knew he was just another asset to the firm. They’d invested a lot in him over the years, training him, building his reputation. They hated to lose that investment, but Leo was afraid that was their problem.

“I wish I could help, but I don’t think it’s for me anymore. I used to think I would do anything for a win. You know, Jerry shot me because we lost his money. It meant that much to him, that he was willing to kill someone. It doesn’t mean that much to me. Everything’s changed. Maybe for the better.”

“I guess I can understand that. I mean, I can’t, really,” Neal said with a chuckle. Money was in his Neal’s bones. “But I can understand how you might feel that way, much as I hate to say it. So what are you going to do?”

“I’m not sure yet. But I wanted to talk to you about the beach house…”

A half hour later, Leo was off the phone and infused with new energy. Jasmine was teaching a class at her friend’s studio since the plywood boards on the missing windows still blocked all of the light at her place. She’d been having a terrible time lining up window contractors, but Leo had arranged for a surprise.

He’d found someone who, for the right price, was going to install windows that morning, and once the windows went in, they could move the murals to cover the brick and open up the shop. Jasmine would be back in business. He couldn’t wait to show her.

That, along with his news, would be cause for celebration. She might also want to celebrate the fact the police had caught the group of thugs who had been vandalizing homes and businesses up and down the Cape. They’d pulled the same shit in Provincetown, but had been caught there. There wasn’t much detail in the paper, but Leo was glad they were under wraps at the police station and wouldn’t be turning any more lives upside down.

He pulled into her driveway, happy to see her car there. Knocking at the door, there was no answer, so he went around back and found the screen door open there, as it often was.

“Jasmine? You here?” he called out, throwing the keys on the table in the entryway and walking farther into the cottage. It was so different from his place. He was decorating with heavy wood, bronze and cast-iron pieces. Jasmine’s home was light, everything cozy, but colorful and bright.

Small antique bottles lined a window, a single flower in each one. Her bare wood floors were plain except for solid color sisal mats distributed here and there. The windows were all open—no air-conditioning. Wisps of white curtains moved gently like ghosts in the breeze.

“Jasmine?” he called again, and then saw her appear in the hallway.

“Leo!” she said, surprised, and he paused, taking her in. She was wearing a simple shift dress and an apron, her hair pulled back and her face warm from her efforts in the kitchen.

Sexy as hell, as always, he thought, his eyes traveling down shapely legs and back up to her face again. She truly was surprised to see him.

“Something smells good,” he commented. Jasmine liked to cook, when she had time, and when she was stressed, in particular. It was one of the few things he knew about her. He wondered if she was cooking dinner for them, noting the table set for two.

“I didn’t think you’d be around today.”

So much for the idea of the dinner being for the two of them.

“I knew you were teaching up at Kathy’s, and thought I’d come by and take you out. But it looks like you have plans.” He left it open for her to fill him in on exactly what her plans were.

“Yes, yes, I do.”

She didn’t seem to feel the need to explain.

“I’m sorry, I have to get back to the stove.” She turned and hurried back to the kitchen.

Leo stood in the hall, alone, emotions tangling inside of him—anger—but he was also hurt. Jealous.

This wasn’t a simple summer fling anymore. She could hurt him. He was halfway in love with her, or as much as he could be with a woman he barely knew.

Jasmine was locking him out of her life, slamming the door shut like she always did. He was okay to have sex with, to hang out with, but when it came to sharing anything meaningful, the barricades came down. And who the hell was she making dinner for?

Following her into the kitchen, he leaned on the doorway, deceptively casual.

“So who is dinner for?”

She worked at the stove, focusing intently on her recipe. As she walked to the sink, she spared him a glance.

“I’d rather not say.”

“I’d rather you did.”

She looked at him then. “Why? Because we have sex? One thing has nothing to do with the other.”

He snapped then, closing the distance between them in a few, long steps and backing her up against the counter. Her softness gave way to him as he closed in, trapping her there.

“I think it has everything to do with everything.”

Before she could retort, he kissed her, hard—possessive—letting her know exactly where he was at. He plunged deep inside her mouth and took what he wanted to be his. Only his.

She struggled against him at first, but then opened to him, chemistry flaring between them as she melted into him, her hands coming up to his hair, digging in, deepening the kiss on her own. Leo forgot everything but her scent and her softness as his hands found her breasts, massaging through the layers of fabric.

He was hard, and he wanted her now. Needed her in a way he couldn’t explain, but the need to claim her so she knew that she was his burned inside of him. He intended to do just that before her mysterious dinner guest showed up.

Sliding his hands down, he bunched up her skirt, pulled it higher, ground his erection into the crux of her thighs. He swallowed her moan of need.

“I can’t, not now,” she gasped as she broke the kiss, pushing on his shoulders. He ground against her again, and her lips parted on a caught breath. He knew the hazy look in her eyes. A little more and she’d give in. A little more than that, and he’d be inside her, which was what he wanted more than breathing.

“Who’s coming to dinner, Jasmine?” He held her gaze as she stared back. He saw her indecision, her struggle.

Why was this so hard for her? What was she up to? Had he only assumed they were exclusive?

But when he looked closer, he saw more. The pinched tension around her mouth, the worry in her eyes behind the desire.

Shit. She was really upset about something.

“Babe, what’s going on?” he asked, softer this time, backing off but only enough to offer one more kiss, a gentle touch, pulling her against him again, gentler this time. This woman twisted him in knots, untied them and then pulled him tight again, but he couldn’t get enough of her.

“Leo…you have to go, it’s not what you think. It’s not someone else. It’s just that—”

The doorbell rang, and Jasmine stiffened in his arms.

“Dammit,” she whispered. “Dammit to hell.”

“What?” The strain in her face seemed to multiply ten times over, and Leo was actually beginning to worry. “Who is that?”

Pushing away from him so that she could straighten her hair and her dress, she took a deep breath, obviously composing herself as the doorbell rang again and she hurried out to answer it. Leo followed.

Opening the door, Leo watched Jasmine greet her visitor, an older woman who hugged her lightly, distantly. The two women said something to each other that he couldn’t hear, and then both turned to face him.

Leo knew before she was introduced who the woman at the door was, and regret swamped him for how he’d treated Jasmine moments before.

Jasmine took a deep breath, forced a smile. “Leo Fischer, meet my mother, Darla Stanford.”

Jasmine was in hell.

Of course, it was a hell of her making. She shouldn’t have been ignoring her mother’s calls and questions about a visit, and she should’ve told Leo she was having company for dinner that evening. But she hadn’t been looking forward to seeing her mother—horrible as it was to say—since Darla was always dredging up the past and how good things were before. Until they went bad.

And did Jasmine really need to report every little thing she did to Leo?

Now, here she was with both her lover and her mother at the dinner table. She had to make the best of it. Though in all honesty, she’d been surprised by her mother’s visit. At least Darla hadn’t yet bothered to start cataloging the past; she was far too taken with Leo.

“You look good, Mom,” Jasmine said honestly, taking in her mother’s healthy color and fresh, simple hairstyle. So different from the old days, when she tended to be made up more glamorously, Darla now wore little makeup, and actually had on a pair of pants. Jasmine wasn’t sure she’d ever seen her mother wear pants.

Her mother also had asked for a second bowl of her lobster bisque. Her mother had always been strict on monitoring calories, always focused on pleasing her father and fitting in with her fashion-conscious friends.

Now, she’d gained a little weight, true, but it looked good on her. Especially since the last time Jasmine had seen her, Darla had been painfully thin. And crying. All the time.

Jasmine hadn’t realized how much she’d missed seeing her mom smile. She’d almost forgotten how nice it was.

“Thanks, honey. You do too. Can you take some credit for my little girl’s healthy glow, Leo?” her mother asked with a wink in Leo’s direction.

Jasmine almost laughed at the stunned look on his face, but then he recovered easily, with a smile in her direction.

“I’d like to think so, but Jasmine is good at taking care of herself.”

Ouch.

“Oh, she’s always been like that. Just like her father.” Darla made the comment offhandedly, as if it was a given.

But Jasmine coughed, choking on the bite of salad she was eating. Conversation came to a halt as she got her breath back and no one had to deliver the Heimlich.

“I am not like Daddy
at all
,” she stated when she could, still aghast.

She didn’t consider herself to be anything like either of her parents. She’d worked to be her own person. What other choice did she have?

“Oh, you’re only thinking of those later years, but if you knew him when he was younger, and when you were a baby, you’d be able to see I’m right. Both fiercely independent, wanted to do everything themselves. They don’t let people in, not easily. They make you work for it, Leo, let me tell you that. But it was worth it. When I was dating Wallis, sometimes I wondered if we’d make it. It was so hard to get him to open up, to let anyone else share the journey.”

Leo looked at Jasmine curiously. “I bet he was very single-minded and driven to success,” he added.

Jasmine felt the heat rise up in her cheeks. He was one to talk.

“Oh, he was. And unfortunately, as the years went on, I became used to the lifestyle that his drive created for us, but we became even more distant. In that way, I blame myself for what happened. He thought he was doing what was best, but he wasn’t there for us for a long time.” Darla reached across the table to touch Jasmine’s arm.

Jasmine froze, putting down her fork, unable to take another bite. She didn’t want to have this conversation in front of Leo, with Leo. It was private. Her mother didn’t seem to feel the same way.

“But now I know that I’d stopped being there for him too. We both abandoned the ship, so to speak, and we both created a horrible situation that caused Jasmine so much suffering. I wasn’t there for you either, honey, when things fell apart. But I can be now. It’s why I showed up unannounced. I knew if I waited for you to invite me, it could be forever, and if I told you I was coming, you’d make some reason it wouldn’t work. I couldn’t blame you for that, but it was time.”

“I’m sorry, Mom. It’s just been so busy,” she stuttered, wanting to change the subject desperately.

“I know. You’ve done wonderfully for yourself. This house is beautiful, Jasmine. And all yours. I’m so proud of you. Though having someone to share with is important too.” Darla sent another happy smile in Leo’s direction.