Closer to My Heart (4 page)

She smiled sadly and pushed a tomato around her salad bowl. “Yeah,” she said with a heavy sigh. “I do. But my younger sister had some problems about a little over a year ago with her boyfriend, and I realized that she was at an awkward age for books and things like that to help her, so I turned some of our conversations into narrative … and wa-la!”

He raised his eyebrows. “I bet your sister’s proud. Did it bother her that you’d published private conversations?”

Her face flushed and she looked down at her glass for a moment. “She was proud, actually. But she was killed last year in April. Her boyfriend couldn’t deal with their breakup, so he—you know, killed her. That’s why I came home.” It still hurt so much to think about.

All the color drained from his face and he reached over to cup her hand in his. “Oh, my God, I shouldn’t have asked you.”

She smiled at him. “I know. But I’m okay. Really, Luke. I know you didn’t know. I have great memories of her, so it’s nice to think about her.”

He chewed for a couple minutes then asked, “What do you mean you came home? Where had you been?”

“I lived out of a small apartment in Paris for about five years, but was on the road most of that time. I took about six assignments a year and they carried me all over the world.”

“How long did each one last?”

“Well, depended on the story. I was in Prague for about four months. Oh, my God. The cityscape is just, I don’t know—stunning. The center of the city still has its original medieval vibe because it wasn’t as damaged as other European cities during World War two.

“Man, I bet they’ve got beautiful churches, huh?”

“Oh, yeah. A lot of the streets are paved in cobblestones. And there’s a humongous thousand-year-old castle. I hope I can make it back over there in the next couple of years.”

 
Luke poured her a second glass of wine, and she couldn’t help but watch his hands. They were so masculine. Broad-palmed, long-fingered, tan and lightly furred. Small nicks and scars dotted his hands, evidence of a life hard lived. Without thinking, she reached out and stroked his knuckles. He jumped and looked up at Jane. For just a second, he looked startled. She reached up to touch his face and he moved back, schooling his features back into a mask of indifference.

“Um, have you travelled much?” She stabbed her fork into the steamy pile of homemade macaroni and cheese he’d made, stuffing her mouth so she didn’t have to talk for a minute. What an awkward minute.

“No,” he said abruptly. “Just with work.”

She turned her head to study him for a moment. He squirmed a bit and looked at points all around her to avoid her direct gaze. “That’s why you’re
decompressing
. Right?”

He nodded. “I didn’t mean to be so rude. I, uh, don’t really talk about it much. I was in Columbia and some other South American countries after I got back from Afghanistan.” He followed her lead and took a bite of dinner.

She wasn’t so gracious with him. “So you were in the military. What branch?”

He cleared his throat and fiddled with his fork. “I joined the Army out of high school. I needed somewhere to go and I wasn’t the best student, so I knew I didn’t really want to go to college. I was a Ranger for a couple of years and cross-trained with the Navy.”

“Does that happen often? Working in more than one branch?”

“Yeah. I went through S.E.A.L. training and spent a year or so with the teams, but most of that time I worked with the DEA. I was with them for the last two years, before I…retired.”

Jane nodded, willing herself not to start crying. Something bad must’ve happened for him to look so sad. It was impossible to swallow around the lump in her throat. They sat quietly for a few minutes.

“I had a great trip to India once. The Taj Mahal was breathtaking. You know the Shah built it for his favorite wife, which—even though I knew he had a harem—was so romantic.” she sighed and batted her eyes with an exaggerated tilt of her head. Luke laughed, which made her feel better.

He’d lost that look of devastation that was weighing him down for a while there. So she regaled him with great tales of her adventures through Europe and Asia. She laughed at the silly things she’d done and that had happened to her, and some of the awards she’d won through the years. Gradually he relaxed and ate some more. He didn’t ask anymore questions, but he didn’t look like he was going to cry, either.

Midway through her second helping of macaroni and cheese, she scooted her chair back from the small table in Amber’s apartment and groaned.

“Oh, my God. That was so good. I’m so full I hurt, but I’m so screwed—I smell brownies.” She closed her eyes and rubbed her stomach. Damn!

Once he’d regained his appetite, he put away some serious food. After wolfing down three helpings of his own he reached across the table and finished off hers, too. He laughed and muttered something that sounded like ‘yeah,’ but his mouth was too full of food to really understand him.

“How about another glass of wine?” he asked once he’d swallowed. But after he refilled his glass and took a big gulp, he sighed. “I don’t feel so good, either.”

Jane let out a startled bark of laughter, then threw her head back and laughed out loud. “Well why did you eat so much then?” She chucked him on the arm and got up to clean off the table.

Without thinking he said, “God, it’s so nice to eat what I want when I want…” His voice trailed off and she turned to look at him.

She stopped loading the dishwasher and waited for him to continue. His face was sheet white and his expression looked like somebody knocked him upside the head with a shovel. Oh crap. This must be another bad memory for him. But she was compelled to ask.

“Well why couldn’t you eat what you wanted when you wanted it?”

“I, uh, was undercover while I worked with the DEA.”

“Oh.”

He excused himself and went back to the bathroom.
Shit!
He splashed water on his face, shivering when he felt it run down his neck through the open collar of his polo shirt. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes and thought,
Christ! This is all I need—to cry in front of Jane.

But he couldn’t help it. The harder he glared at himself, willing the tears away, the more they filled his eyes. He hadn’t cried since his mother died when he was in high school. There was no room for crying on a mission. Tears aren’t acceptable when you’re staring death in the face, undercover in the bowels of hell in some rat-infested South American shithole slum. You’re supposed to be invincible when you’re building a case against America’s number one enemy importer of heroin.

He growled and dashed the stupid tears away. He couldn’t meltdown now. With Jane in the other room. He liked her. He wanted her.

He jumped when she knocked on the door. “Just a minute,” he croaked. He grabbed a washcloth and ran it under warm water, taking a quick moment to wipe off his face.

“Okay, honey,” she said quietly.

He cleared his throat and dried his hands and face on the towel hanging on the rack.
Time to face the firing squad.
He wrenched the door open and pushed past Jane, nearly knocking her over.

“Oh! Sorry, Janie.” He caught her by the elbow to steady her, and when she bent a little to get a better look at his face, he let her go and moved on to the front door. “Um, I’ll bring you some brownies in the morning if that’s okay.”

He stood there for a minute, praying that his voice wouldn’t crack again. It was bad enough that she saw his mini breakdown; if he lost it again, he’d die of embarrassment.

But she was smart, and a keen observer of life. Instead, she walked through the kitchen and set her refilled wine glass on the counter.

“I’m sorry if I upset you, Luke.” She paused in front of him by the door and stretched up to kiss him sweetly on the mouth. “But I’m glad we talked. And I’m glad we spent the evening together. I hope we can do it again. Soon.”

He was stunned, and his mouth was slightly open. She took advantage and leaned in to kiss his open mouth again, lingering a bit longer this time, but pulled back when she felt the subtle shift in him, like he was going to wrap her in his arms. The zing of sexual awareness that had been sparking between them for days now was stronger than ever, but they weren’t ready for anything physical. Yet.

Over the next few weeks, Jane and Lucas were the two musketeers, having breakfast and exercising each morning. On Saturday, after they’d gotten home from a nice long run through campus, he cornered her on the porch, crowding her between one of the big columns and his big body. He smoothed her hair back from her face and focused his sexy gaze on her mouth.

It had been so long since he’d felt as carefree…so in tune with another person…as he had during this time with Jane. She was not only beautiful and sexy, but she was fun, smart and interesting. He liked to listen to her talk about her family and friends. At first, it felt like she was speaking Swahili—her whole life had been so safe and clean and different than his. She had been loved as a child and appreciated as an adult. His whole life had pretty much been a big bummer, although the weeks he’d known Jane were changing his perspective on life. And love.
 

“Janie,” he sighed. He leaned down and nuzzled his mouth beneath her jaw. He’d rarely touched her since that afternoon he’d thwarted Tiffany’s advances, but he couldn’t take it another minute. He wasn’t ready to part ways for the day, and he wasn’t willing to go another day without testing their attraction.

“I don’t want to go back upstairs. Since it’s so beautiful outside, do you think we could run by Wellspring and pack a picnic? Isn’t there a park around here?” He could
not
be a good boy and walk upstairs and
not
have her. His body was reaching critical mass on sperm backup, and he was going to blow soon. He hoped.

She was lost in his gaze, snared like a cobra by a mongoose. After a minute, she realized he was talking to her, so she cleared her throat and reached up to hold his wrist. “Oh, a picnic sounds like fun, but I’ve got to get the outline for my next book out by the middle of next week, and then I’ve got to call my travel agent to schedule my flight for—.” She stopped mid-sentence and blinked several times, looking lost.

He chuckled at the wrinkles marring her forehead. He could see the wheels turning mightily in her head as she tried to shift around her responsibilities for the day.

“Um, never mind. I can do that later.” She smiled brightly. “Let’s make a day of it!”

His fingers were moving softly over her collarbone and trailing up to and around her ears. He watched the glide of his fingers over her soft skin, and smiled when she shivered. She liked him touching her as much as he liked to touch her.