Just One Kiss (10 page)

He wanted to know why her laughter seemed to wrap around him like a comforting blanket on a cold night. He wanted to know why the scent of her stirred him to such heights. And he wanted to know why she was so certain that he was Mr. Wrong. And knowing he wanted to know all these things scared the hell out of him.

“I don't know…. Did the grandmother who gave you this trip raise you?” That seemed a safe enough topic.

“Yes. She took in me and my sister and made a wonderful, loving home for us. But I always felt the hole in my heart from my mother's absence.”

He nodded. Yes. That was what Bobby's absence had been—a hole in his heart. “Nathaniel's father…did you really love him?”

She hesitated a moment before replying. “I thought I did at the time, but I realize now I was in love with the concept of being in love. My baby sister was already happily married with two kids, I'd just finished a grueling school schedule and I was feeling lonely and isolated.”

“And then Mr. Right appeared and you knew in an instant he was the one for you.”

She heard the slight mockery in his tone and turned and stuck out her tongue. He laughed, then she continued. “When I met Bill, I had some reservations. He ran with a bunch of guys, was heavy
into the nightclub scene. He liked heavy metal music and had a stereo system in his car that could have been used as a down payment on a house.”

“Hmm, sounds like a dreamboat.”

She winced and smiled ruefully. “I've made him sound terrible, and he wasn't all bad.” She frowned thoughtfully. “He made me feel pretty and wanted and not so alone, and I thought it was love, but it wasn't.”

Jack wondered if he made her feel pretty and not so alone. Was it loneliness that had made her so agreeable to spending time with him while on her vacation?

“What about you…and Sherry? You said you asked her to marry you. Were you in love with her?”

This time it was Jack's turn to contemplate that long-ago relationship. “No,” he confessed. “I cared about her, and I loved her as the mother of my son, but I wasn't
in
love with her. I think she knew I wasn't in love with her, and that's why she refused to marry me.”

Again they fell silent as the car ate up the miles. Jack stared out the window, trying to sort out his conflicting emotions where Marissa was concerned.

Was it so surprising that he wanted her on a physical level? She was exceptionally attractive, with a lushness to her shape. It had been a long time since Jack had been with a woman and it was obvious he was feeling the deprivation.

He absolutely refused to consider that his desire for her might be more complicated than that.

It was just after nine when they pulled up by Jack's house. The night surrounded them and the sky was filled with a million stars.

“Why don't you come in, have that cup of coffee you didn't have last night?” Jack asked. He knew this would be the last time he would see her.

She turned off the engine and shifted in the seat to look at Nathaniel, who had fallen asleep only minutes before. He saw her hesitation. “You could carry him in and put him down in the crib.”

“Okay, maybe just for a little while,” she agreed.

Minutes later Jack watched from the doorway as Marissa placed the still-sleeping Nathaniel in the crib where once Bobby had slept.

Marissa kissed the little boy on the forehead, then gently covered him with a blanket. Seeing the love radiate from Marissa for her son, Jack felt an ache pierce his own heart.

Was somebody covering Bobby with a blanket right now? Kissing his forehead and making him feel safe and secure? Jack desperately hoped so. The thought of Bobby alone in the night, frightened or unhappy, tormented Jack.

He left the doorway and went into the kitchen to put the coffee on. He couldn't focus on Bobby, knew the unknowing would drive him insane.

“He didn't even crack open an eyelid,” Marissa said as she came into the kitchen.

Jack nodded. “Coffee will be ready in a minute.”

She looked at him for a long moment, her eyes the soft green that made him want to fall into their depths. “It must be very difficult on you to be around Nathaniel.”

“I'm learning to live with the fear of bodily harm whenever I'm around him,” he said, and waited for a smile to appear on her features.

She didn't smile. She simply continued to gaze at him soberly. “I'm being serious, Jack. I hadn't really thought about it until just a minute ago.”

Jack got two cups from the cabinet, then turned to face her once again. “It was hard…at first,” he finally admitted. “Nate is so close to the age that Bobby was when I lost him. Every time he touched me, looked at me, it brought back the pain.”

“I'm so sorry. I should have thought—”

Jack raised a hand to still her. He smiled. “Please, don't apologize. Along with the pain, he made me remember the joy. And somewhere in the last couple of days, Nate stopped being a reminder of Bobby and simply became Nate, a little person in his own right.” He smiled. “Now, how do you like your coffee?”

“Black is fine.”

“Let's take it out on the deck,” he suggested.

She nodded and together they carried their coffee down the hallway and into his bedroom. As he opened the door to the deck, he tried not to look at
the bed, tried not to imagine himself there with Marissa naked in his arms.

The night was warm, although a breeze from the water made it comfortable. The sky was brilliant with stars, illuminating the deck with a soft, silvery glow.

Marissa sat at the table and Jack eased down next to her. She looked lovely in the pale light and he could smell her sweet, floral scent riding on the salty breeze.

He took a sip of his coffee, then smiled at her. “It seems I've spent a lot of time the past couple of days thanking you, but I want to thank you again…for today, for the trip to Miami.”

“I just hope something comes of it.” She leaned forward and placed a hand on his arm. “It would be nice for me to know that you and Bobby are finally back together where you both belong.”

He got up and moved to the railing. He stared out at the ocean waves, not willing to allow the hope her words offered to make its way into his heart. He sensed rather than saw her leave the table.

She moved to stand next to him, her gaze following his to the water. “It's so beautiful here,” she said softly. “It must be lovely to watch a sunrise from here.”

He turned to face her at the same time she turned to him. He didn't know if he took the first step toward her, or she moved toward him. He only knew that suddenly she was in his arms and he was drowning in the green of her eyes, and then he was drowning in the sweetness of her lips.

She didn't fight the kiss; rather, she leaned into him, as if she was as hungry, as needy as he felt.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulled her more intimately against him, felt the quickening of her breath against his mouth.

Splaying his hands across the small of her back, he deepened the kiss, their tongues dancing in a frantic rhythm of need.

The ocean breeze did nothing to cool the fever that had taken possession of Jack—it merely stoked his internal flames higher.

He moved his hands beneath her T-shirt, her back silky smooth beneath his palms. Still he held possession of her mouth, drinking her in, allowing the heat of her, the sweet of her to rush through him.

Finally, reluctantly, he broke the kiss and gazed at her, knowing his hunger shone from his eyes. “Stay with me, Marissa. Stay the night and watch the sunrise in the morning with me.”

He saw her desire radiating from her eyes and once again his lips claimed hers with fiery intent. He couldn't remember ever wanting a woman as he now wanted Marissa. And he knew she wanted him with the same crazy intensity.

When he broke the kiss, they were both breathless. “Stay, Marissa,” he whispered. He stroked the side of her face and she closed her eyes for a moment, as if finding his touch more than she could bear. “Let me make love to you, hold you in my arms. Stay the night, Marissa.”

T
here was nothing that Marissa wanted to do more than to fall into the spell Jack wove with his words, his touch, his hungry kiss.

And for a moment she had allowed herself to fall gloriously into the passion he stirred in her. She had allowed herself to be swept into the flames of his kisses, the fire of his touch.

The night was set for romance, with the balmy light breeze that stirred sensually across her bare arms and legs. The stars overhead provided a backdrop of brilliant splendor and Jack's kisses were so hot she felt as if she were melting each time their mouths touched.

However, as she gazed into his eyes, so warm, so achingly blue, she recognized with horror that she wanted more than a night with Jack Coffey.

She wanted more than a night, more than a vacation of stirring memories. She wanted a lifetime with him. Somehow, some way, in the space of a mere week she had fallen in love with Jack Coffey.

She dropped her arms from around his neck and took a step backward, shocked by the realization that somehow, some way, Mr. Wrong had become her Mr. Right.

“Marissa?” Jack looked at her in confusion. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing…I…” She looked at him helplessly, staggered beyond words by the emotions that flowed through her. She loved Jack, loved him with all her heart. There was no mistaking what she felt.

“I've offended you…moved too fast.” Jack cursed softly beneath his breath. “I'm sorry. I'm so out of practice. I—I thought you felt the same way I do. I thought you wanted me as much as I want you. Obviously I was mistaken.”

“No, you aren't mistaken.” She raised a trembling hand to her pounding heart. “I want you, Jack. There's nothing I'd like more than to fall into bed with you. I want you as I've never wanted before.”

“Then I don't understand…”

“I know you don't.” Marissa felt the need to run, escape, before she made an utter fool of herself. How could this have happened? How had Jack crawled so completely into her heart, her soul? She turned and left the deck.

He caught up with her before she could leave his
bedroom. He took her by the arm, stopping her forward progress and forcing her back to face him.

“Marissa, wait. Make me understand.” His gaze played over her features, searching for answers.

Marissa's gaze fell to his bed. The navy spread was slightly rumpled and one of the pillows still held the faint indentation from his head.

The sheets would smell of him, and for a moment her mind exploded with a vision of her and Jack beneath those sheets, their bodies naked and moving together. They would be good together. She knew their lovemaking would be something stupendous.

She wished desperately that she could simply fall into that bed with him, forget any desire for a future and just enjoy the moment of splendid passion. But she couldn't.

With an effort, she pulled her gaze away from the bed and back to Jack. She drew a deep breath, fighting the emotion that suddenly burned at her eyes, thickened in her throat. “I can't stay the night. I can't make love with you, because I want to so badly, it hurts inside me. Because it's already going to be too hard to forget you.”

Suddenly Marissa was angry, not angry at Jack, not necessarily angry with herself, but angry with fate. “It wasn't supposed to be this way,” she exclaimed. “It wasn't supposed to be at all like this.”

Jack eyed her helplessly, bewilderment shining from his eyes. “What are you talking about? What wasn't supposed to be this way?”

“It was supposed to be right this time. I was supposed to know the instant I met him. I'd know and he'd know and it would be the beginning of something lasting and wonderful.” She knew she was rambling, but she couldn't stop herself.

The words spilled out of her, tumbling one after another. “It's not fair. You snuck up on me, Jack. I didn't even think I liked you at first. And now I've gone and fallen in love with you.”

There, she'd said it. And someplace deep inside her, she'd been hoping that once she said the words, he would sweep her into his arms and profess his undying love for her.

But that didn't happen. Instead, he stared at her with more than a little disbelief and a touch of distinct horror. “Marissa, I—I don't know what to say,” he finally said.

Any tiny bit of hope that might have flourished in her heart quickly died a painful death. “And that pretty well says it all.”

She left the bedroom and walked down the hallway, Jack hurrying behind her. “Marissa, surely you're mistaken,” he said. “I know we've spent a lot of time together, and maybe you're just lonely and I'm just convenient.”

She turned to face him when they reached the living room. “I wish I were mistaken. But this isn't about me being lonely. This isn't about vacation madness.” She swallowed hard. “Jack, I'm in love with you.”

“But we've only known each other for a week.”

“I know,” she agreed. Along with her hope, her anger fled, leaving her only confused and exhausted. “It's crazy. You're nothing like my Mr. Right.”

“I'm crabby.”

She nodded. “And stubborn.”

“I don't pick up after myself.”

“You're a complete slob, and I can't explain why I love you. You are the last person in the world I would have chosen for myself. But it's happened.” Her voice held the utter certainty of her feelings.

His gaze studied her for a long moment, and in the depths of his eyes she thought she saw a battle being waged, a battle she didn't understand. “It could never work,” he finally said.

And in those words, hope renewed itself in Marissa. “What could never work?” she asked, her heart pounding frantically.

“Us. Any kind of a future for us.” He said the words slowly, thoughtfully, and as he gazed at her, Marissa saw a softness, a tenderness in his eyes that strengthened her hope.

Was it possible? Had he been taken by surprise, too? Was it possible he'd fallen in love with her? She took a step toward him, wondering if he could hear the beat of her heart, the intense yearning that soared through every vein, filled every fiber of her being.

“Jack?” She stood so close to him she could feel
his body heat. “Why couldn't we have a future together? Because you don't love me?”

His eyes darkened and he refused to meet her gaze. “Because we're all wrong for each other.”

He hadn't said he didn't love her. Joy suffused her. She knew Jack well enough to know that he wouldn't mince words, that if he didn't love her, he'd tell her in direct language. But he hadn't.

She reached up and cupped his face with her palms, forcing him to look her directly in the eyes. “Tell me again why we're wrong for each other. I seem to have forgotten.”

Again a mixture of emotions flitted across his features, deepening the hue of his eyes. “Marissa.” He pulled her hands off his face and took a step back. He raked a hand through his hair, his gaze once again not meeting hers. “I think we're mistaking lust for love here.”

“No. I know the difference between lust and love,” she protested. “I know that I want you, that I want you to kiss me until my head spins, caress me until I can't think. I know I lust for you. But I also know I want to share your laughter, I want to share your heartaches, I want to share your life. And that's not lust. It's love.”

She thought she saw a spark of something in his eyes, but it was there only a moment, then gone. “Marissa, I can't be your Mr. Right. You told me yourself that your Mr. Right would have hopes and
dreams. And I have neither. You deserve that in a man. You should demand that in a man.”

“But you aren't without hopes and dreams,” she contradicted. She searched his features, loving the cleft in his chin, the faint five-o'clock shadow of whiskers, the way the color of his eyes reflected so accurately his mercurial moods.

At the moment his eyes were the deep blue of bewilderment and she wasn't sure if he was deliberately being obtuse or if he truly didn't see himself as the man he was.

“Oh, you had me fooled at first with all your cynical talk and crusty exterior. Jack.” She stepped forward and took his hand, then led him down the hallway to Bobby's room.

She opened the door and with an effort pulled him into the little boy's room. “Here is your hope, your dreams,” she said softly.

He pulled his hands from hers, anger sparking in his eyes. “You don't know what you're talking about.” His voice gradually softened as he realized Nathaniel still slept soundly in the crib.

He stalked past her back to the living room and she quickly followed him. “Jack, your hope lives in that room. A man who doesn't have hope or dreams in his heart doesn't keep a room like that. It isn't some unhealthy obsession that drives you to buy something for Bobby on his birthdays. It's hope.”

He walked to the window and stood, his back to Marissa. She held her breath, hoping her words had
penetrated his thick skull, praying he recognized the man he was and not the man he professed to be.

When he turned back to face her, any light that had been in his eyes was gone and his features radiated a weary hopelessness that tore through her.

“That isn't hope.” He pointed down the hallway in the direction of the bedroom. “That's atonement.”

“Atonement? But that implies guilt. What on earth do you feel guilty about?”

Sheer torment radiated from him and Marissa fought against her impulse to go to him, embrace him and try to ease his pain. Instead she remained where she was, her need to comfort him aching inside her.

“I should have worked harder to love Sherry. Maybe then things would have been different. I should have worked harder, been good enough at my job to find Bobby.” The words spewed from him, filled with self-loathing. “I don't know what I did, but it must have been something, for me to lose Bobby.”

He drew a deep breath, as if in an attempt to tame the demons within. “Fate decided five years ago that I wasn't cut out to be a father.”

“Fate didn't decide that,” she exclaimed. “Sherry did. And you did everything you could to find Bobby. It wasn't your fault the woman you got in touch with was a flake.”

He nodded, as if to concede the point, then sighed
wearily. “It really doesn't matter. Even if I were man enough to be with you, Nate deserves better than what I can give to him.”

Marissa thought about her son, how easily, how quickly he'd taken to Jack, how naturally he'd called him Daddy.

“Nathaniel fell in love with you before I did,” she said softly. “And you know what they say about small children and animals. They instinctively know the true nature of a person.”

“It's no good, Marissa.” There was a dreadful note of finality in his voice.

He walked to where she stood and touched the side of her face, a touch that ached inside her as she saw the dull lifelessness in his eyes.

“Go home, Marissa. Go back to Kansas City and find your Mr. Right. Find a man who can share your enthusiasm for life, your utter faith in love and happiness.”

He dropped his hand from her face and turned away from her, leaving her feeling more bereft than she'd ever felt in her life.

 

The most difficult thing Jack had ever done in his life was to look into the vast green depths of Marissa's eyes, touch the silky skin on her face, then turn his back on her and all she was so openly offering him.

How had a fall on the beach transformed into such
an emotional mess? How had his simple, miserable life become so damned complicated?

He'd known from the very beginning that Marissa wasn't the kind of woman to be a ship passing in his night. He'd recognized the starry shine of belief in her eyes the moment he'd stumbled over her son. So, why hadn't he run for the hills at that very moment?

Because he couldn't run. Her son had broken his leg.

The humor of his thoughts did nothing to lift his spirits. He sensed Marissa behind him, felt her gaze on his back. He steeled his emotions, then turned back to face her.

He knew the luminous yearning in her eyes would haunt him for a very long time. But he also knew with certainty that he wasn't her Mr. Right, that he could never be the man she deserved.

“So that's it,” she said. “You've decided to remain life's victim.”

“No, I'm a realist, Marissa. And I'm not going to ruin your life by being a part of it.”

She started to say something, then stopped and instead grabbed her purse from the sofa. “I'll just get Nathaniel and we'll be on our way.” She turned and disappeared down the hallway.

Jack breathed a sigh of relief. If she'd stood there another minute, with those big eyes so filled with love, he might have done something stupid. He
might have fallen into the fantasies, the dreams she spun.

She reappeared a moment later, Nathaniel snuggled against her, still fast asleep. “Then I guess this is goodbye.”

“I guess so,” he replied. For a long moment he stared at her, memorizing the features of her face…the dancing freckles across her nose, the stubborn thrust of her pointed chin, those beautiful eyes that shone so brightly.

If only she'd been content with passion, with lust. If only she'd been willing to fall into bed without commitments, without the messiness of emotions. Without the entanglement of love. Love, with its expectations. Expectations he could never fulfill.

“I hope things work out for you, Jack,” she said softly as she moved toward the front door. “I hope you find Bobby and the two of you build a beautiful life together.” Before he could reply, she was gone.

For one crazy moment Jack wanted to race to the door and call her back inside. He fought against the impulse, knowing it would only lead to her eventual heartbreak.

Instead, he turned and went back to the deck, his head spinning with the knowledge that Marissa loved him. How was it possible? How on earth had it happened that a woman like her had fallen for a man like him?