Just for Now (18 page)

Not kind enough, or strong enough, she thought now, to have
lived his life honestly, until he’d been forced into it. She found herself
hoping, for his sake, that he could do that now. Jeremy had inherited his
father’s softer nature, his easy charm. But he’d inherited his weakness as
well.

 “Right,” she said as brightly as she could manage, walking
into the hotel suite twenty minutes later. She’d stopped in the ladies’ toilet
in the lobby to dash some water over her face and compose herself. “Who’s had a
bath?”

“We both have.” Harry jumped off the couch to greet her,
pulling his attention away from Animal Planet. “Daddy gave me mine. We’re
hungry, though. Is it tea soon?”

“Very soon,” she assured him, dropping her purse and moving
into the kitchen. “Finn, are you eating with us, or going out?”

“Not enough energy to go out, even if I wanted to,” he
admitted from his own spot on the couch, muting the wildlife documentary he’d
been watching with Harry. “Think I’ll sit with this ice on my knee and watch
you cook, if you have enough for me. Or we could order a takeaway if you’d
rather. Easy as.”

He looked searchingly at her, and she felt her chin wobble a
bit as she turned hastily away.

“No, I’m good,” she told him briskly after a moment. “Venison
stir-fry. Very simple. Do you want a beer?”

“I could murder a beer,” he said gratefully.

Jenna felt better once she’d busied herself preparing quinoa
and a simple meal of cubed venison and vegetables. By the time they sat down to
eat, she had herself under control again.

 “Can we watch a movie?” Sophie asked after dinner was over.

“
May
we,” Jenna corrected automatically.

“
May
we watch a movie? Please?”

“Your brother’s looking pretty tired,” Jenna decided. “We’ll
put on a cartoon. If you’re still awake after that, you can read a bit. OK with
you?” she belatedly asked Finn.

“No worries,” he said. “Sounds good to me. I’ll get them
settled.”

Harry was looking decidedly droopy by the time teeth were
brushed and the children tucked up in bed. “Are you sleeping in here with us,
Daddy?” Sophie asked. “Or is Jenna?”

“Me,” he told her firmly. “Reckon Jenna deserves the night
to herself, anyway.”

“Want some help with the washing-up?” he asked Jenna as he
shut the door on their bedroom, the sound of the cartoon fading to a murmur.

“No, thanks. Be done in a second.” She was already wiping
down the benches after loading the dishwasher. “Here.” She reached into the
freezer, handed him the icepack again.

“Cheers.” He sank onto the couch and put the cold pack back
on his knee with a sigh. “Come have a glass of wine. You look like you need
it.”

“You saw my purchase, huh?” she asked him with a wry smile.
“Didn’t realize just how useful it’d be, when I bought it. Do you want some too?”

“Wouldn’t say no.”

“So now you know,” she told him as she handed him his glass of
Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc and settled on the other end of the couch with her
own, determined to address the scene she knew must be uppermost in his mind.
“Why my marriage didn’t work.”

“That would do it,” he agreed. “You didn’t know?”

“Of course I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have stayed if I had. I
just thought . . .” She flushed. “That he had, you know, a low sex drive. Or
just wasn’t that attracted to me. Stupid, I realize that now. But at the time,
it made sense.”

“Why would it make sense?” he objected. “You’re a very
attractive woman.”

“I weighed more then, for one thing,” she reminded him. “I
told you that. And the longer it went on, the more weight I gained. What you
see now is the result of a lot of hard work. But I never felt very attractive,
so it didn’t seem that strange to me, even at the beginning. ‘Low
self-esteem.’” She made air quotes with her fingers, made a face. “Classic.”

“He was the same at the beginning?” he asked with surprise.
“And you married him anyway?”

“He was my friend,” she tried to explain. “We had such a
good time together. He was so funny, and when I was with him, I could laugh
about things. All the messy stuff in my life. When I shared it with him, he
made it all seem funny instead of, you know, kind of sad and sordid. We had a
lot in common. Messed-up family backgrounds, being different, wanting another
path for our lives. And the physical part . . .” She shrugged. “I never
expected a man to be crazy about me that way, so I wasn’t surprised that things
never . . . heated up. Never got much beyond snuggling. I’ve heard women say
they like that better. I don’t know, though. It didn’t do much for me.”

“Never?” he frowned. “He isn’t bisexual, then?”

“Don’t hold back. Go right ahead and ask.”

“Sorry. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. It
was a shock to me too, though, seeing them. I’m glad I did. It explains things.
Because I couldn’t imagine any man lucky enough to be married to you not
wanting you.”

She turned her head in surprise to look at him more fully. “Really?
You really think that?”

“Course I do. You’re sexy as hell, you love kids, you can
cook . . . what more is there?”

She couldn’t help laughing. “I didn’t realize the list was
so short. Sexy as hell, though? That’s a new one.”

“It is? Think any man—any straight man—would say that.”

“Well, I guess that’s the answer,” she said ruefully. “Turns
out I haven’t hung out with any straight men.”

“None?” He looked startled. “Not even since you separated?”

She flushed. “No. At least, you’ve seen the extent of it. I
was still married until last week, remember? OK, separated, I know. But it’s
still married, isn’t it? At least it was to me. I wasn’t feeling very desirable
anyway, for a long time. Having your husband not want you can do that.”

“OK. Going to ask again. Not at all?”

“I think he told himself he was bisexual, like you said. He
deceived himself as much as he deceived me, in the beginning. Almost,” she
corrected. “He knew he was attracted to men, obviously. And he didn’t share
that tidbit. I think he persuaded himself that he could be interested in me. But,
as it turned out, not so much.”

“Are you telling me you never had sex with him?” he asked
bluntly. “You were married for, what? Five years?”

“Three and a half, not counting these last two years. And no.
Even I would have figured that one out. But it was never very much. In any
sense. Less and less as time went on. I just wish I’d known why. It would have
saved me a lot of pain.”

“They invited me to their wedding,” she burst out, the tears
coming to the surface again. “And I wish I could go. I really do. Whatever else
he was, Jeremy was a good friend, at a time when I needed one. He got me out of
Las Vegas and over here, which was the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
But when they told me that today . . .” She stopped, swallowed. “I’m still mad.
I can’t help it. Because I wasted all those years. I wanted kids. That’s what
I’ve wanted most in my life. The one thing. It doesn’t seem like too much to want,
does it? And now I’m thirty. If he’d had the guts to tell me, I could have got
out, tried again. But now .  . .” She shrugged helplessly, the tears starting
to spill over now. “Shoot.” She got up, grabbed a paper towel and wiped them
away. “I need to go check the kids.”

She returned a few minutes later, shutting the door quietly.
“Fell asleep watching,” she told him with a determined calm. “They were up late
last night, and they love being with you so much, today was a lot of
excitement.”

“And now,” she said, picking up her glass of wine, “I’m
going to my room to read my book. I’ll let you relax. Quit telling you my sad
story.”

“Jenna.” Finn reached for her hand, pulled her down to sit
beside him. “Don’t. I’m glad you told me. And I have something to say too.” He
reached for the wine bottle and topped up both glasses. “I told you any man
would be lucky. I meant that. Matter of fact, I’ve been wishing I’d be that
lucky.”

“You?” she faltered.

“Yeh. Me. Didn’t you know?”

“Sort of. Something,” she admitted. “But I’m not even close
to your type, I know. You date women like Ashley.”

“Not for a while now, if you’ve noticed.” He set down his
wine glass, took hers from her hand, moved closer to her on the couch. Raised a
hand to her face, cupped it in his palm. “Because I’ve wanted to do this for a
long time.”

She leaned into him as he came closer. Then his mouth was on
hers, kissing her in a way Jeremy never had. Hungrily, his hand at the back of
her head now. His other arm going around her, pulling her closer to him.

“Open your mouth for me,” he murmured. She sighed and did as
he asked, and his tongue was inside her mouth, diving and exploring as she
melted into him.

He pulled back at last, leaned his forehead against hers. “You
have a great mouth. I’ve been waiting so long to do that. But it’s all of you.
All of this.”

His hand was moving down her side to her waist now, making
her shiver. He outlined her lips with his tongue, slipped it inside her mouth again
to taste her. She found herself falling back against the couch, lost in the
feeling of his mouth on hers, his hands holding her so close. His mouth moved
to her ear, kissing here there, taking the earlobe between his teeth to nip it,
then moving down her neck to her throat.

“Finn,” she groaned as he she felt his mouth on her neck, his
teeth grazing her, his hand moving over her. “I can’t . . . we shouldn’t . . .”

“I know,” he told her, his mouth on the sensitive spot where
her neck met her collarbone, biting gently there, making her shiver and shift
beneath him. “Bad idea. I know. Just a few minutes more. Just want to kiss you
a little more, touch you. Then we’ll stop.”

He went back to her mouth, his lips moving over hers until
she was limp against him. His hand stroked her waist, moved up her side, closed
at last on one round breast.

“We shouldn’t,” she protested weakly. But his hand was
exploring now, and she’d never felt anything like this, the heat of it. She
held his shoulders, moved her hands down his arms. He felt so solid, so firm
under her palms. She reached around to his back, felt the shifting planes of
muscle there, tentatively moved her own tongue to touch his own. He groaned and
reached under her sweater, touching her skin at last. She jumped at the feeling
of his big hand against her bare skin, shivered as he slid it up to her breast,
his hand moving inside her bra to hold her there, stroke her.

She surrendered to the pleasure he was giving her for long
minutes. Then pulled her mouth from his, put her hand on his arm, made a
supreme effort and pushed him away.

“Finn.” She wrenched herself up next to him. “We can’t. The
kids are right there. And it’s a bad idea anyway. We can’t.”

 He let go of her with an effort of his own, leaned his head
back against the couch cushions. “You’re right. Thought I could just kiss you,
see what it felt like, finally. But geez. It’s like I’m fifteen again. On the
couch and everything. And wanting you so much I can’t stand it.”

“Me too,” she admitted shakily. “But not here. Not now.”

“Right,” he groaned. “I know you’re right. But go to bed
now. Because I can’t sit here with you anymore. We’ll be good in the morning.
If you stay out here tonight, though, I’m going to touch you again. And if we
go any further, it’s going to be even harder to stop.”

“I may never want to travel by myself again,” Jenna told
Finn the next morning over breakfast in Air New Zealand’s luxurious Koru Lounge
in the Wellington Airport before their flight. “I’m going to miss this when I’m
on my own again, down amongst the Regular People.”

He laughed. “There are a few perks. Good thing, as much time
as I spend in airports.”

“Stop reading for a bit so you can finish your breakfast,
Sophie,” Jenna admonished. “We’re going to be getting on the plane in a few
minutes.”

Sophie sighed as she reluctantly set
Fantastic Mr. Fox
aside
and went back to her Weet-Bix, soggy now. “I’m just at the good part,” she
complained.

“You can look forward to finishing it on the plane, then,”
Jenna told her firmly. “And in the queue, too. I know you. Stay close, OK? I
don’t want to lose you because you’re walking and reading.”

Harry looked up from his
Zoobooks
magazine, featuring
sharks this time. “Will you read my magazine to me on the plane, Jenna?”

“Sure. Stick with me, buddy.” She smiled back at him, then
reached over to push up his glasses. “We need to get these specs adjusted before
we go to Dunedin. They keep falling down. And you’ll want to look your handsome
best for your grandparents and all the rest of your relatives.”

“Talking of that,” Finn told her, “my mum called this
morning. She and Dad want to take the kids back to Motueka after the wedding,
keep them there for the first week of the school holidays. My sister said she
and Kieran—her husband—can bring them back up to Auckland. Give them a chance
to take a couple days off as well. They run a holiday park, won’t have much opportunity
to get away once we’re into spring. You’ll still need to fly down with the kids,
but you could have a week’s holiday yourself. Stay in the South Island, if you
want. A bit cold down there this time of year, but if you don’t mind that, you
may enjoy it. I could help you work out places to stay. Or you can go back to
the house, of course.”

“Ah . . .” she looked at him, then down at her coffee cup.
“We should talk about it.”

He raised his eyebrows. “OK. I’ll still pay you, if that’s
what you’re worried about.”

“That helps a lot,” she told him gratefully. “And that’s
nice of you.”

“Not really. I should’ve built in holiday pay anyway, just
didn’t think of it.”